Tune as Old as Song
by So-crates Johnson
Summary: Modern/AU: Belle, a writer for a local newspaper, is helping a friend with a story when she meets Adam, a guitarist for a popular local metal band. As she gets to know him, she realizes that they have more in common than their seemingly different interests would suggest.
1. You're Invited

_This story is the result of a dumb idea that wouldn't leave my head. Modern/AU type stories aren't usually my thing, so I won't blame you if they're not yours either. But I've been wanting to try to write a BatB story for a long time, and this is what my brain came up with. It's also my first attempt at writing a fanfic, so I apologize in advance if it reads like a bad YA novel. I'm trying to improve. :)_

_It won't follow the narrative of the movie exactly, but hopefully pieces of it will sound familiar. It'll basically be straight-up fluff; nothing too deep going on here. If your taste in music is as bad as mine, you may notice that each chapter is named after a different hair metal song. I did this mostly to amuse myself and because I suck at coming up with titles (see above). So I guess what I'm trying to say is please don't read too much into them; they're just a result of me listening to too much cheesy music._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast or any of the songs that will be referenced. _

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CH. 1: You're Invited (But Your Friend Can't Come)

Belle yawned quietly and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. As she twisted in her seat, her gaze landed on a padded envelope leaning against her purse. She grinned to herself. Inside the envelope, she knew, was an advance copy of the new Song of Ice and Fire novel. One of the perks of reviewing books for the Molyneaux Times was getting an early peek at hotly anticipated releases, and like many fans of the series, Belle had been anticipating the release of this book for a very long time. Her copy had just been delivered that afternoon, and she was looking forward to a quiet night at home with the book and some takeout from her favorite Chinese restaurant. All she needed to do was get through the last thirty minutes of the work day.

Belle was just about to open an email from her editor when a cheerful "Hey, Belle!" grabbed her attention. She looked up from her computer to see Chip Potts bounding up to her desk with a grin on his face. Chip was a summer intern who, like Belle, worked in the arts department; he was also her closest friend at the paper.

"Hi there, Chip. You look happy," Belle observed with a smile. This was an understatement; Chip looked like a child who had just been given a pony.

"I just got my first byline!" Chip blurted excitedly. "And you won't believe how cool it is! I'm interviewing Enchantress! They're opening for The Riverbottom Nightmare Band at The Castle tonight."

"That's a pretty big deal for a local band, isn't it?" Belle asked curiously. She didn't know much about Enchantress, but it was hard to live in Molyneaux and not at least be aware of their existence; they played frequently at the various bars and clubs in town. The Riverbottom Nightmare Band, on the other hand, was a fairly well known national act. Even though Belle wasn't a fan of theirs, she knew exactly who they were.

"It's the biggest gig they've ever played!" Chip exclaimed. "I've been trying to get tickets ever since I heard they were the opening band, but it's been sold out for weeks. And now not only do I get to go, but I get to interview the band for the paper, too! This is officially the coolest job ever." He sighed happily.

"Congratulations, Chip," Belle said warmly. "Have a great time tonight; I can't wait to read your story in the morning."

"Actually," Chip's grin widened even further, "I've got a plus one. Are you busy tonight? Why don't you come to the show with me?"

Belle wrinkled her nose. "I don't know, Chip. Aren't they a heavy metal band? It's not really my kind of music."

"Oh come on, Belle," Chip pleaded. "It'll be fun! These guys are awesome. All of the members of the band went to MU. They used to play parties on campus all the time, and _everyone_ loved them. They might surprise you."

Belle glanced longingly at the envelope sitting just a few feet away; she had really been looking forward to staying in tonight and diving into her new book. "You don't think one of your friends from school would rather go with you? Someone who's a fan like you are?"

"Nah," Chip started. But before he could finish what he was about to say, a deep voice boomed across the newsroom.

"Hello, Belle!"

Belle froze. Gaston Lafleur, the Times' star sports reporter, was striding towards her with a cocky grin plastered on his handsome face. Gaston was a former defensive end on the MU football team who had briefly gone pro, but an injury during his second season had forced him into early retirement. The Times had hired him shortly thereafter, hoping to capitalize on the fact that he was the closest thing to a celebrity that the town had. Frankly, Belle was surprised that the man was able to speak in complete sentences, much less write a regular column for a newspaper.

Gaston leaned confidently on the corner of Belle's desk, knocking over a photo of her parents in the process. He appeared not to notice the mishap, and Belle huffed as she leaned over to retrieve the photo from the floor. "What can I do for you, Gaston?" she asked politely as she straightened in her chair.

He flashed her his most charming grin. "Today is your lucky day, Belle. There isn't a girl in town who wouldn't love to be in your shoes. The University is holding a banquet tonight to retire my jersey. Picture this: dinner at one of the fanciest restaurants in town, open bar, all of my trophies on display - and you get to be the guest of honor's date. Can you be ready if I pick you up at 7?"

"Oh - that's very kind of you, Gaston. But ...," Belle trailed off, flustered. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with an excuse - _any_ excuse - to turn down the invitation. Spending the evening listening to Gaston drunkenly boast about the glory days sounded even worse than spending the evening having her eardrums assaulted by a metal band. _A metal band? Wait!_ "... I'm going to a concert tonight with Chip!" she exclaimed, fighting to keep the relief out of her voice.

"Who?" Gaston asked, confused and clearly not expecting Belle's next words to be anything other than "yes."

"Hi," Chip piped up from the corner of Belle's cubicle, giving Gaston a cheeky wave.

As Gaston scowled at Chip, Belle rushed on in what she hoped was her most apologetic voice. "It's an assignment for the paper. A very big story too. But I'm sure you'll have fun without me. I don't even know anything about football, anyway; I don't really deserve the invitation."

Gaston seemed about to protest, but thought better of it when he noticed several of their coworkers shooting them curious glances. As he stalked off, grumbling under his breath, Chip smirked at Belle. "How many times does that make?"

Belle groaned. "I've lost count." Gaston had asked her out at least a dozen times since she had started working for the paper full-time, which was barely more than a month ago. "I don't understand it - I've tried turning him down politely, and even telling him that I don't date coworkers. He just won't give up. What do I have to _do_?" she sighed in exasperation.

Chip shrugged sympathetically. "Maybe he sees you as a challenge. The way most of the girls in town fawn over him, I don't think he's used to being turned down." He looked at Belle curiously. "You really _don't_ have any interest in him, do you?"

"None at all," Belle answered vehemently. "He's rude, and conceited, and shows no respect for other people. I don't care how good looking he is; he's not for me."

Chip patted her shoulder and gave her an admiring look. "I'm sure he'll get the message eventually. Even _he_ can't be that thick. So," he added, changing the subject, "are you really coming to the concert now?"

Belle almost laughed at the hopeful expression on his face. "Yeah," she sighed. "I guess so. When and where should I meet you?"

Chip bounced happily on the balls of his feet. "Why don't we meet in the lobby around 5:30? The doors don't open until 6:30, but I want to try to get a good spot, and I'm sure people will start lining up early. I'm really glad you're coming with me - you won't regret it."

Belle wasn't sure about that, but she agreed to meet him in the lobby in an hour. As Chip walked back to his desk, Belle glanced once more at the package on the floor. She hurriedly stuffed it into her purse in an effort to keep it out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind.


	2. Rock! Rock! Till You Drop

CH. 2 - Rock! Rock! Till You Drop

Belle stood near the corner of the stage, shifting her weight in an effort to relieve her aching feet. She could see why Chip had had such a hard time getting tickets to the show tonight - The Castle was packed. Belle felt like she was being crushed from every direction, and she wondered briefly if this was the sort of show that was likely to incite a mosh pit. She had a sudden, terrifying vision of being hurled across the room by one of the large, over-caffeinated teenagers jockeying for a spot on the floor. Just as she was considering moving to a spot closer to the back of the room, Chip let out an excited squeak. "There they are!" he exclaimed as three young men began setting up their equipment onstage.

"So you knew these guys in college?" Belle asked conversationally.

"Well, not personally," Chip admitted. "They were all a few years older than me, so it's not like we ever had any classes together."

"How much older are they?" asked Belle. None of the men looked to be older than mid-twenties to her.

"Well, Charles Cogsworth was three years older than me," Chip said, gesturing to the stocky, serious man wearing jeans, a white t shirt, and a vest whose buttons strained valiantly against his generous belly. He looked all business as he fussed over the positioning of the drum pedals. "He was a senior when I was a freshman. Same for Jean Lumiere." This time, Chip pointed to a lanky, somewhat flashily dressed young man with a ponytail who was adjusting the microphone. He had an easy smile, and looked much more relaxed than the drummer as he bantered with a few audience members who were standing close to the stage. "But Adam Prince was only one year ahead of me - he just graduated last month, same as you." Belle's gaze fell on a tall young man wearing jeans and a black t shirt. His sandy, shoulder-length hair obscured his face as he bent over a guitar, listening intently as he tuned the instrument.

"They don't look the way I expected a metal band to look," confessed Belle.

Chip laughed. "What were you expecting? Claws and fangs?"

"Sort of?" Belle blushed. "I don't know. I guess I just wasn't expecting them to look so normal."

Chip shrugged. "Well, they're definitely more classic metal than death metal, if that's what you mean."

"I'm not sure I know the difference," Belle admitted with a laugh as the room suddenly darkened. A spotlight fell on Jean Lumiere, who flashed the crowd a dazzling smile as he hoisted a bass guitar.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced with a flourish, "it is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight. We are Enchantress, and we will do out best to entertain you until the Riverbottom Nightmare Band comes out!"

The crowd cheered as Enchantress launched into their first song of the night. Belle was surprised to find herself bobbing her head to the music. It was certainly heavier than what she was accustomed to listening to, but it was also unexpectedly melodic. And she had to admit, Jean Lumiere was a natural showman. Every pair of eyes was glued to the charismatic frontman as he strutted across the stage, hamming it up and throwing the occasional wink to the cheering crowd. He clearly loved the attention, and the audience positively showered him with it. Toward the end of the song, however, the attention of the crowd was abruptly diverted when Adam Prince launched into a blistering guitar solo. "Man, that guy is a _beast_ on the guitar!" Chip exclaimed appreciatively. As Belle glimpsed the young guitarist's face for the first time, she was surprised to see that he was actually quite good looking, even with his strong features screwed into a look of intense concentration. The crowd roared in approval as the solo came to an end, and another enthusiastic round of applause greeted the end of the song soon after. However, the band took little time to bask in the cheers as they continued on with their set.

Belle was startled when, roughly forty minutes later, Jean Lumiere thanked the audience and announced the last song in Enchantress's set. She had enjoyed the show much more than she had expected to, and had lost track of how much time had passed. As the last song began, Chip grabbed her elbow and shouted into her ear. "We should probably make our way back toward the green room for the interview!" Belle nodded and tried her best to keep up with Chip as he navigated his way through the tightly packed maze of people crowding the floor. They reached a curtained doorway off to the side of the stage, where two burly looking bouncers stood at attention on either side. They looked to Belle like they should have been wearing suits of armor rather than t shirts and headsets. One of the bouncers leaned down to listen as Chip explained who they were, gesturing to the press pass hanging from a lanyard around his neck. Belle couldn't make out a word of the exchange, but the bouncer suddenly nodded and straightened. He beckoned to Chip and Belle before turning and disappearing through the curtains. Chip looked back at Belle, shrugged, and followed the bouncer with Belle close behind him.

Belle blinked as she passed through the curtains and into a brightly lit and surprisingly busy hallway. As her eyes adjusted, she quickened her pace to catch up with Chip and the bouncer, who were several steps ahead of her. The hallway took a labyrinthine series of turns, and the trio passed various doorways that led to offices, dressing rooms, and storage areas. "If we're in The Castle, these must be the dungeons," she murmured to Chip. She was hopelessly lost by the time the bouncer stopped in front of a door.

"Here's the green room," he announced as he opened the door and waved them inside. "The band should be here in a few minutes." He turned and strode back down the crowded hallway, disappearing around the nearest corner.

Belle and Chip surveyed the green room as they closed the door behind them. It was small, but comfortable looking. A large couch and several chairs were arranged around a low table to make a sitting area in the center of the room. A mini fridge stood against the far wall, and a flat screen TV hung on the wall behind them. Framed posters from previous concerts held at The Castle decorated the remaining walls, and Belle recognized the names of some of the bands. As she moved to get a closer look at one of the posters, she heard Chip gasp.

"What's wrong?" she asked, spinning to face him.

"The batteries in my recorder are dead!" wailed Chip, waving the device in his hand. A note of panic crept into his voice. "I swear, I checked them right before I left the office! You don't have any extras on you, do you?"

"I don't," Belle said apologetically. "But it looked like there were still people in some of the offices we just passed. Maybe one of them can loan you a set?"

Chip brightened. "Yeah, I'm sure they can!"

As he made for the door, Belle asked, "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Nah, that's ok," said Chip. "I'll only be a few minutes. Besides, someone should be here in case the band gets back before I do."

"Do you need a bag of breadcrumbs so that you can find your way back here?" Belle teased.

Chip laughed. "If I thought you really had some, I might actually take you up on that." He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "I'll be right back," he tossed over his shoulder. "I hope."

Belle laughed as the door closed behind Chip. She wandered over to the sitting area, and decided to have a seat on the couch, which was surprisingly comfortable. As she set her purse on the table, she remembered the book she had stuffed into it earlier. Shrugging to herself, she decided to make the most of this unexpected quiet time. She fished the book from her purse, shifted in her seat to get more comfortable, and opened to the first chapter.

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_Just wanted to say thank you for the reviews and encouragement! This is sort of an experiment for me, so any suggestions to improve are welcome :)_


	3. Love Walked In

CH. 3 - Love Walked In

Belle had barely made it two pages into the book when she heard the doorknob rattle. "That was quick" she commented, not bothering to lift her eyes from the page as the door swung open. When Chip didn't answer, she finally raised her gaze - and caught her breath as she found herself looking straight into a pair of startlingly blue eyes that most definitely did not belong to Chip. Up close and in the light, Adam Prince was even more handsome than he had looked onstage. His chiseled features were softened by a look of surprise - at her unexpected greeting, Belle assumed. Under the light, she thought she could see glints of auburn in his long, tousled hair. But his eyes were what really drew her attention - she had never seen eyes that were quite that shade of blue. Belle was so transfixed by them that several long seconds passed before she realized that she was staring. She felt her face start to flush in embarrassment, which was only heightened by the realization that he was staring back at her. She grasped desperately for something to say to relieve the awkwardness of the situation.

"You're not Chip," is what she came up with when she finally found her voice. She winced inwardly at the obviousness of the statement. However, it had at least done the trick of breaking the awkward silence.

Adam gave his head a slight shake as he cleared his throat. "Uh, no. I'm Adam."

"I know," Belle replied. "I just watched your set."

"You did? How did we do? Did we sound ok?" Adam asked anxiously as he closed the door. He crossed the room quickly and grabbed a bottle of water out of the mini fridge. "Can I get you anything?" he asked, gesturing in Belle's direction with the bottle.

"Water would be great, thanks," Belle said gratefully as she tried to keep pace with the sudden barrage of questions. "And you guys were actually really good," she offered as Adam held another bottle out to her.

Adam gave her a lopsided smile as he dropped onto the other end of the couch. "You sound surprised," he observed.

Belle blushed as she took a long sip of water. "Well, I wasn't really familiar with your band before tonight, so I didn't know what to expect. Chip invited me; he's my coworker, and a big fan of yours. I'm Belle, by the way," she added as an afterthought, extending her hand in a belated introduction.

Adam reached over to shake her hand and offered another smile that made Belle's stomach do flips. "It's nice to meet you, Belle. So where is Chip, anyway?" he asked, glancing around as if he expected Chip to pop up from behind the couch.

"Oh, he stepped out to look for something in one of the offices. He shouldn't be long," she explained. She reached for a stack of concert flyers on the table, using one of them to mark her place in her book. Adam gasped when he caught sight of the cover.

"Is that the new Song of Ice and Fire book?"

"It is," Belle acknowledged.

"But how do you have it?" Adam asked, clearly awed. "It doesn't come out for another two weeks!"

"The publisher sent it to me; I review books for the Times," Belle explained.

Adam snapped his fingers as his eyes lit up in recognition. "You're Belle _DuPont_!"

"Yes," Belle replied, startled. "We haven't met, have we?"

"I read your column," Adam explained. "Your reviews are pretty solid; I've actually picked up books based just on the fact that you liked them. So what do you think of this one so far?" he asked eagerly.

"Well I'm only about two pages in, and I haven't even figured out which character's viewpoint I'm reading yet," Belle admitted apologetically, although she was finally starting to relax as the conversation turned to a familiar subject. "But other than that, I guess it's good so far?"

Adam laughed. "Fair enough. I can't wait to see what you think of it. I've been looking forward to this book for _ages_."

"Me too," Belle agreed. "I only wish I could take my time and really enjoy it, but I have to have my review ready to print in time for the release."

Adam appeared to ponder this for a moment. "Nope," he announced. "I'm still jealous."

Belle smiled. "You must like to read a lot?"

"I do _now_, but I didn't always," Adam confessed. "I used to hate reading as a kid, actually."

"What changed your mind?" Belle asked curiously.

"Music, mostly. When I started getting into metal, I got really curious about the meanings of the songs that I was listening to. It turned out that some of my favorite songs were really heavily influenced by classic literature, and I started looking to the sources to sort of answer the questions that I had about the music."

Belle looked at him doubtfully. "Really? I don't listen to much metal, but I've never really associated it with literature. I always assumed it was a lot of guys in makeup screaming like Cookie Monster and biting the heads off of bats."

Adam laughed. "Wow. Well, I guess that does describe _some _metal, but it's not all like that. I mean, you didn't think our stuff was like that, did you?"

"Well, no, actually," Belle admitted. "Lumiere's voice is much better than Cookie Monster's."

Adam rolled his eyes in amusement. "He'll be flattered to hear that. But seriously, metal isn't always that ... gruesome. A lot of the earliest metal bands were influenced by mythology, and poetry, and folklore - even love, although I guess that actually _can_ be a pretty gruesome subject," he joked.

Belle laughed. "You've got me there. But _poetry_?" She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You're not going to tell me that Ozzy Osbourne performs readings of Emily Dickinson in his spare time, are you?"

"No, I think he's more of a Sylvia Plath fan," Adam deadpanned, earning a smirk from Belle. "The idea of incorporating a poem into a metal song isn't really that crazy though," he insisted. "Bands have been doing it for years. In fact, one of my all time favorite songs is actually based on 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner.'"

"'Rime of the Ancient Mariner?'" Belle repeated in surprise. "As in 'water, water everywhere?'"

"'Nor any drop to drink.' That's the one," Adam confirmed with a smile.

"So someone ... what, set the poem to music?" Belle asked uncertainly.

"Not exactly," Adam replied. "The song is more like ... a _retelling_ of the poem. The lyrics only quote a few lines directly, but they really manage to nail the mood of the poem. What really breathes life into the song, though, is the _music_." His eyes widened emphatically. "When Bruce Dickinson sings about it raining, you can almost hear the rain coming down; you actually _feel,_ vividly, what it's like to be on that ship. It gives me chills, no matter how many times I listen to it." He scrunched his shoulders up as if to emphasize his point.

Belle leaned forward. "It sounds like a really intense song."

"It is. And it made me appreciate the poem even more when I finally read it. It was a familiar story, just told in a different way."

"And there are other songs like that?" Belle asked curiously.

"_Tons_," Adam replied. "Not all of them are literal retellings like 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner' though. Like, I can think of almost half a dozen Led Zeppelin songs that reference Lord of the Rings. Some people swear that the whole first verse of 'Ramble On' is about Frodo's journey to Mordor, but it's kind of open to interpretation. And Blind Guardian wrote an entire _album_ that was basically a retelling of 'The Silmarillion_.'_ "

Belle lips quirked up in a wry smile. "I had a hard time getting through that one."

"I know, right?" Adam agreed. "I wanted to like that book so badly."

"So did I," Belle admitted. "So what is the album like?"

"Well, it's a lot shorter." Belle laughed, and Adam smiled back at her. "It basically cuts to the good stuff and leaves out some of the more tedious parts. It _almost_ makes me want to read the book again."

Belle smiled thoughtfully. "I never would have thought that metal would be ruled by bookworms."

"That's the thing," Adam nodded. "Some of the best metal songwriters are actually really well-read, and it shows in their music. Sometimes it even makes the source material more interesting; the songs kind of gives you a different way of looking at it."

"I'm going to have to ask you to write some of these songs down for me," Belle said with a laugh. "I'll never remember them."

"I'd be happy to lend you the albums if you want," Adam offered. Belle smiled at his offer and privately thought that it might be worth taking him up on it just for the excuse to see him again, although she was also genuinely curious about the songs. She was just about to thank him when the door to the green room opened. The room was filled with noise as Chip walked in with Adam's missing bandmates, talking and laughing boisterously. Belle was surprised to realize how disappointed she was at the interruption. She thought she heard Jean Lumiere say something about finding Chip in a broom closet and shook her head. Apparently Chip had gotten lost on his way back to the green room after all.

"Hey, listen," Adam stated quickly in a low voice, impulsively reaching across the couch to touch Belle's hand. Her stomach gave a little flutter at the contact as she turned her attention back to him. "Do you maybe want to grab some coffee after the interview? I mean - that is - you and Chip aren't ...?" he faltered.

Belle frowned at him in confusion, but then she laughed when she realized what he was asking. "Oh no, we're just friends," she assured him. She was secretly pleased by the look of relief that crossed Adam's face at this clarification. "And coffee would be really nice."


	4. Youth Gone Wild

CH. 4 - Youth Gone Wild

Belle smiled at the waitress as a mug of green tea was placed in front of her. "I'll be right back with your pie," the waitress assured as she hurried off.

Adam took a small sip of his black coffee. "So, Belle," he started. "How did you end up in Molyneaux? You didn't go to school here."

"Is it that obvious?" Belle asked, suddenly feeling self conscious.

"Oh, no," Adam quickly reassured. "I didn't mean it like that. But I definitely would have remembered you if we'd gone to school together."

Belle blushed. "I wasn't that memorable in school," she admitted, glancing away. "But no, I didn't go here. I went to school in the city - that's where I grew up, and I always kind of assumed that I would stay there. But while I was in college, my father moved out here to accept a job as the head of MU's engineering department. I guess you could say I followed him," she said with a shrug.

"Wow," said Adam. "Your dad must be really smart. Their engineering department is very good. Or so I've heard. I tried to take as few math and science classes as I could get away with."

"He's a genius," Belle stated proudly as the waitress placed a slice of pie and two forks on the table. "You should have seen the the things he invented when I was growing up. He would take the parts from our old appliances and build these incredible machines. Sometimes he'd even use parts from my old toys."

"He used toy parts?" Adam asked incredulously, reaching for a fork. "What on earth would he do with those?"

"He was sometimes able to modify the pieces and use them to fix different things," Belle smiled. "They were pretty useful, actually. I remember one time, I had a Slinky, but he straightened it."

"That's awful!" Adam laughed.

"It's ok, I hadn't played with it in a long time," Belle defended. "My mom wasn't so lucky though. He once took apart her good stand mixer right before Thanksgiving. She was so angry with him, he stayed up all night trying to put it back together."

"He fixed it though, right?"

"Mostly, although my mom swore it never quite worked the same after that." Belle smiled wistfully, and Adam noticed that her eyes were moist. His brows knitted together in concern.

"Is everything ok?" he asked, handing her a napkin.

"Oh, I'm fine," Belle nodded as she wiped at her eyes. "It's just - that was the last Thanksgiving that we were all together. My mom passed away the following spring."

"I'm sorry," Adam said softly, reaching across the table to grab Belle's hand. "I lost my parents when I was young, too."

Belle looked at him sympathetically. "What happened?"

Adam drew his hand back and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. For a moment, he was silent, and Belle was afraid that she had unwittingly touched a nerve. "They were involved in a car accident a few months after I started high school. I moved out here afterward to live with my uncle and finish school."

"I'm sorry," Belle stated sincerely.

"It was a long time ago. So," he said, smiling weakly, "you followed your dad here?"

"Right," Belle responded, grateful for the change in subject. "The city just felt a little lonely after he left - I don't have any brothers or sisters, so he's the only family I've got. So last summer, I decided to look for an internship out here, and I was able to find one with the Times. It worked out really well, and they offered me a job just before fall semester started. I accepted it pretty much on the spot; it was a no-brainer."

"It must have been nice to finish school without having to worry about finding a job," Adam observed. "So you must have been a journalism major then?"

"Comparative lit, actually," Belle corrected. "I've always thought of myself as more of a reader than a writer - the thought of writing for a newspaper had never crossed my mind until my internship. But the job has really been ideal so far. The deadlines are demanding, and I don't always necessarily get to read what I _want_ to read, but I never imagined I could get paid to do something I do all the time for fun." She smiled.

"What kinds of things do you like to read?"

"Everything!" Belle exclaimed. "One of my favorite things about my major was the variety of works that we studied. But my favorite things to read are probably travel books, mythology, and fairy tales."

"That's amazing," Adam said, feigning surprise. "You like to read _Cinderella_, and I like to listen to Cinderella."

"Incredible," Belle laughed in agreement. "So what do _you_ do, aside from listen to bands named after girls who can't keep their shoes on?"

"Well, at the moment I'm still a student," Adam responded.

Belle tilted her head in confusion. "I thought Chip said you just graduated?"

"Oh, I did," Adam explained quickly. "But I'm going back in the fall for grad school. I teach guitar lessons at my uncle's music store in between classes. And play with my band, obviously."

"What are you studying in grad school?"

"Music history. And I think talking with you has actually given me a really good idea for my thesis. I may need to pick your brain again," Adam grinned.

Belle laughed. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be, but you're welcome to try." Her warm smile suddenly faded as she heard a familiar deep voice echo across the diner. Peering past Adam, her stomach sank as she spotted Gaston talking with the hostess. Three women huddled closely around him. As the hostess led the foursome to a booth, Belle snatched a menu from the side of the table and ducked behind it, pretending to be intensely interested in the variety of waffles that one could order at this time of night. Unfortunately, the quick movement caught Gaston's eye, and he pushed the menu aside as he approached the table to reveal Belle's reddened face. As Adam looked on in bewilderment, Gaston flashed them a charming smile. "Belle! Imagine running into _you_ here! I thought you were going to a concert with Chris tonight?" he cried. Belle didn't miss the note of accusation lurking behind the forced pleasantries.

"Chip," Belle corrected him, forcing herself to look up and meet his eyes. "And we did go. Adam and I just decided to get some coffee after the show." The three women who had entered the diner with Gaston stood behind him, whispering to each other and glancing curiously at Belle. They could have been triplets for all that Belle could tell them apart - blond, skinny, and wearing cleavage-baring cocktail dresses. Even their faces wore matching expressions of adoration, directed, naturally, at Gaston. _They must have come from the banquet_, Belle decided.

"How nice," Gaston replied in a bored tone. He gave Adam an appraising look, and his lip curled into a sneer. "If you get tired of _Adam's_ company, feel free to join our table." Judging by the looks of alarm on the triplets' faces, Belle guessed that not everyone at their table would be happy to see her if she accepted this invitation. Without another word, Gaston strode away to catch the hostess, and his entourage hurried after him with one last curious glance at Belle.

Adam raised an eyebrow. "Friend of yours?"

Belle dropped her face into her hands and took a deep breath before looking back up at Adam. "Hardly. That's Gaston. He works with me at the paper. He wanted me to go to some silly banquet with him tonight - I actually tagged along with Chip as an excuse to get out of it," she explained apologetically.

"Well I'm glad you came to our show, even if it was only to avoid a bad date. But why didn't you just tell him no?" Adam asked curiously.

"Because no one says no to Gaston!" Belle declared in a surprisingly good imitation of Gaston's deep, arrogant voice.

Adam laughed. "Well I guess some things never change."

"What do you mean?" asked Belle.

"I went to high school with him when I moved out here. No one said no to him back then either."

"You knew him in _high school_?" Belle asked in surprise.

"Well, we weren't friends or anything. He was a few years older than me - probably didn't even know who I was. We, ah, served a lot of detentions together though."

"You spent _that _much time in detention, huh?" Belle observed in amusement.

"Yeah," Adam laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture that Belle found inexplicably endearing. "You probably wouldn't have wanted to know me back then. I was no Prince Charming, believe me."

Belle's eyes widened in curiosity. This was a side of Adam that she hadn't expected. "What did you get in trouble for?" she asked.

"Dumb stuff, mostly. Ditching class, drinking. The occasional fight, although that didn't happen _too _often - I mostly kept to myself in high school."

"Really? Why?" Belle asked. Adam seemed so friendly and easy to talk to, it was hard to imagine that he would have difficulty making friends.

"Well I transferred in the middle of the school year, after my parents died. It was hard to make friends when all the other kids already knew each other. Not that I tried all that hard. I was angry about losing my parents, and moving away made it feel like I had lost all of my friends, too." Belle nodded in understanding. "On the bright side, detention was how I met Lumiere and Cogsworth, and that pretty much turned my life around for me."

"Those guys were troublemakers too, huh?" Belle asked with a laugh.

"Well not Charlie so much," Adam admitted with a smile. "That guy is a stickler for rules. I'd be shocked if he ever got so much as a warning from a teacher. But I met Jean in detention, and I met Charlie through him."

"So Jean was the troublemaker," Belle nodded knowingly. "And what was he in for?"

"Burning down the chemistry lab."

"What?" Belle cried in horror.

Adam laughed. "That's the way he likes to tell it anyway. It sounds much more impressive than the real story," he confided conspiratorially.

"And what's the real story?" Belle asked, dropping her voice with a grin.

"He had the hots for his lab partner. He had been paired up with this French exchange student, Babette. Pretty girl - uh, not as pretty as you!" Adam amended quickly, and Belle glanced down at the table to hide her blush. "But Lumiere had been pining after her all year, and he was determined to take her to the prom. So the one day in lab, he screws up his courage to ask her. As he's putting on the moves, Mr. Smooth accidentally knocks over their Bunsen burner and sets fire to her textbook. The thing went up like that," Adam snapped his fingers. "The sprinklers in the labs were pretty sensitive, and they kicked in right away. Babette got completely soaked - well, really, half the class got soaked. _Officially_, he got sent to detention because of the ruined books and equipment. But if you ask him, he'll insist he burned down the lab."

Belle giggled. "Well, did Babette at least agree to go to the prom with him?"

"Oh, no!" laughed Adam. "She wouldn't say another word to him for the rest of the year, which made it really tough to do their labs. 'Charles, would you please ask Jean to pass zee beaker?'" he mimicked in a high, heavily accented voice.

Belle laughed again. "Poor Jean."

"Ah," Adam waved a hand dismissively. "He got over it. He wound up taking another girl who I'm sure he's since forgotten the name of. But yeah, I met him while he was serving his time for the Bunsen burner incident. I was sitting in the back of the room screwing around on my guitar, and he came over to introduce himself. He and Charlie were starting a band and needed a guitarist. I agreed to meet with them that weekend, and we hit it off almost instantly." He smiled to himself. "They've been my best friends ever since. I probably would have turned out a lot differently if I hadn't met them."

"So they convinced you to clean up your act?" Belle asked.

"Well, I wouldn't say I transformed into a perfect angel, but I definitely got into a lot less trouble. I couldn't afford to spend so much time in detention if I wanted to make it to rehearsals and gigs," Adam explained. "And when they went off to MU and started booking gigs for us on campus, my uncle made a deal with me. He was worried about me hanging out at college parties all the time, so I was only allowed to go if I stayed out of trouble and brought my grades up. I guess I just needed the right motivation, because it worked," he shrugged.

"Well I'm glad that things worked out," Belle smiled.

"Me too," Adam responded. He glanced down at his phone as the waitress dropped the bill on their table and cleared their dishes. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "I feel bad for keeping you out so late on a work night."

Belle glanced at the clock on the diner wall and did a double take. "I didn't realize it was so late," she said as she placed a couple of bills on the table. When Adam reached for his wallet, she waved him off. "I've got it," she insisted.

"Thanks," Adam said with a smile. "Can I at least repay you by walking you home? It's pretty late, and I'd feel better knowing you got back safely."

Belle stifled a smile. Molyneaux was pretty sleepy as far as college towns went, so it wasn't as if she expected to be attacked by a pack of wolves on the short walk home. However, Adam was sweet to offer, and the idea of spending a few more minutes with him was certainly appealing. "I'd love the company," she responded.

* * *

Belle and Adam chatted casually as they walked, and every so often, Belle would sneak a furtive glance at Adam's profile. She could have sworn she almost caught him doing the same several times. "This is me," Belle announced almost regretfully as they approached her building. "Thank you for walking me back, Adam," she said as she turned to smile up at him. For not the first time, she was struck by how tall he was.

"Thanks for letting me walk with you," Adam smiled back. "And thanks again for the coffee and pie. I'm really glad that you came to our show tonight."

"So am I," Belle admitted truthfully. She hesitated, then smiled expectantly at Adam once more. When he still said nothing, she murmured quietly, "Well, good night."

"Good night," Adam responded. Belle turned toward the door quickly, before her face could betray any hint of the disappointment that she felt. It occurred to her that _she_ could ask Adam for _his_ number, but she wondered if it would be weird to do so now. She had never been good at these things. "Belle - wait!" Adam called after a few seconds, chasing her up the short set of steps. As she turned to him questioningly, he suddenly looked away awkwardly. "Would - do you think it would be ok if I called you sometime?"

"I'd really like that, Adam," Belle replied, fighting a huge grin that threatened to break across her face. She pulled her cell phone out so that they could exchange numbers, and they traded "good nights" once more. As she got ready for bed, she decided that the evening had turned out much better than she had expected it to; she'd have to remember to thank Chip in the morning.


	5. Look What the Cat Dragged In

Ch. 5 - Look What The Cat Dragged In

Adam was still noticeably groggy from his late night when he met his bandmates for a rehearsal the next evening. He'd spent most of his day teaching guitar lessons at his uncle's music shop and had had little opportunity to catch up on the missed rest. Not that he'd rested much even when he had the opportunity. He'd lain awake for most of the early morning replaying his coffee date with Belle in his head, and wondering if it actually qualified as a "date." Every time he closed his eyes, images of her smiling face caused his heart rate to quicken to a pace that made sleep impossible. When he finally did manage to fall asleep, it was only to be awakened by the alarm clock less than two hours later.

As he lugged his equipment into the rehearsal room, Lumiere began to whistle and slow clap. "Good evening, your highness!" he teased, using the nickname that he knew would get under Adam's skin. "You're looking bright and alert today. Did you have fun with the groupie you took home last night? I never thought I'd see the day_ that_ happened."

"She wasn't a groupie, Lumiere," Adam grumbled as he opened his guitar case. "And I didn't take her home."

"Ah, so she took you home. Good thinking," Lumiere nodded approvingly. "If she doesn't know where you live, she's much less likely to drop by unannounced because she was 'just in the neighborhood.' Although I'm not sure I'd mind if _she_ showed up at my door." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Adam rolled his eyes and looked up at Lumiere blearily. "I didn't go to her place, man. I mean, I did, but I didn't go in. I just walked her home after we got coffee. That's it."

"I told you," Cogsworth said smugly to Lumiere. He held out his hand expectantly, and Lumiere grudgingly removed a five-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to his friend.

"Don't spend it all in one place," Lumiere quipped. Turning back to Adam, he asked, "Did you at least get her number? I'd hate to think all your chivalry was in vain."

Adam brightened. "No. I did get it."

Lumiere grinned and elbowed Cogsworth in the side. "I'm impressed," he complimented. "She was beautiful." Cogsworth nodded in agreement.

"She is," said Adam, smiling wistfully. "She's really cool, too. Did you know she's read _The Silmarillion_?"

"Uh, isn't she a book critic?" Cogsworth muttered, rolling his eyes, but Adam didn't seem to notice.

"I've never met anyone who was so easy to talk to - aside from you guys. I just sort of lost track of time, and we ended up staying out a lot later than I meant to."

"And what on earth were you two lovebirds talking about that kept you out so late?" asked Lumiere.

"Everything," Adam shrugged. "She was especially interested in how you 'burned down the chem lab' in high school," he teased.

"Well thanks for preserving my 'bad boy' reputation with the ladies," Lumiere responded with a laugh. "So are you going to call her?"

"Definitely," Adam nodded. "I was actually thinking of giving her a call tonight. They're showing 'La Belle et la Bête' on the lawn in Rose Park tomorrow night; it seemed like something she might like."

Lumiere's face lit up eagerly. Though he had a reputation as a bit of a ladies' man, his friends knew that, deep down, he was a romantic at heart. He also considered himself to be something of an amateur matchmaker - a pretty good one too, based on his track record. However, when it came to Adam, his normally impressive success rate had hit a massive stumbling block. Lumiere had lost track of the number of times he had tried to set his best friend up over the years. In most cases, Adam had stubbornly refused his assistance. In the few instances in which Lumiere had been more persuasive, his efforts had quickly fizzled after one or two dates. Although most girls were initially intrigued by the idea of dating a musician, Adam's moody, quiet nature definitely detracted from the mystique. Lumiere was too loyal to give up on his friend completely, but things had gotten to the point where he no longer held out much hope for his efforts.

So it was a pleasant surprise to see that Adam was actually showing genuine interest in a girl - and Lumiere could hardly fault his taste in this case. The girl also seemed to reciprocate his interest, if the dreamy looks she had been shooting him throughout the interview when she thought no one was looking were any indication. And Lumiere hadn't even needed to do anything! That didn't mean, however, that he couldn't lend his inexperienced friend the benefit of his years of wisdom when it came to scoring a date.

"A movie in the park, good choice," Lumiere nodded. "And a fairy tale - very romantic. You didn't pick it just because it has her name in the title, did you?"

Adam blushed. "Well, that is what made me think of her, at first. But she likes to read fairy tales too, and she was a comparative lit major, so I thought maybe she'd enjoy a foreign film." He looked at his friend questioningly for validation.

Lumiere was impressed. Maybe some of his advice had gotten into Adam's head over the years after all. "You guys really did talk about everything, didn't you? This is good though, she'll be flattered that you were listening and taking her interests into account. Now, have you called her yet?"

"Well no. I was going to wait until after rehearsal."

"Good, good," Lumiere nodded again, rubbing his hands together. "That gives us time to plan what you should say to her."

"Plan?" Adam asked, shooting a questioning look at Cogsworth. The other man merely shrugged.

"Well, of course." Lumiere looked at his friend with something close to pity. "Adam, I know you don't date much -"

"I _date_," Adam interjected defensively.

Lumiere snorted. "You've had - what, one? - serious girlfriend in the entire time I've known you. I hardly think that counts. But anyway, it's fine, because you have _me_. With your charm and my expertise, we'll break this date-less streak you've been on in no time."

"What do you have in mind?" Adam asked cautiously.

"Well," Lumiere started thoughtfully, "you want to make the right impression on the girl. You want her to know that you're interested, but you don't want to come across as _too_ eager. So you can't ask her out right away - you have to work up to it. You should open with a joke. Impress her with your rapier wit."

"But be gentle," Cogsworth chimed in, much to Lumiere's dismay. "You don't want her to think you're trying too hard."

"And shower her with compliments," Lumiere added, as Adam's gaze swiveled back to him. "Women love that."

"But be sincere," Cogsworth interrupted again, earning a frown from Lumiere. "She's smart enough to see through empty flattery. Be a gentleman."

"How do you mean?" asked Adam.

"You know," Cogsworth waved a hand pompously. "Be suave, genteel -"

"_Genteel_? Really? That's what you're going to go with, Charlie? _Genteel_?" Lumiere asked incredulously.

"It's worked for me," Cogsworth shrugged nonchalantly.

"Really? When was the last time you had a date? The 18th century?" Lumiere scoffed.

"When was the last time you had a _second_ date?" Cogsworth retorted.

Lumiere's jaw dropped. "En garde, you -you glorified metronome!" he shouted, grabbing one of Cogsworth's drum sticks and poking him in the belly.

"Watch it, wax for brains!" Cogsworth spluttered while parrying with his own drum stick. Adam had been watching their bickering with fascination, but he now took advantage of his bandmates' momentary distraction to duck into the hallway. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through the numbers until he found Belle's. His thumb hovered uncertainly above the send button for a few seconds before he took a deep breath and finally pressed the screen.

Belle answered on the second ring, "Hello?" The sound of her voice sent all of Lumiere's and Cogsworth's words of advice flying out of his head.

"Belle? Hey, it's Adam."

"Adam! How are you?" Belle sounded genuinely pleased to hear from him, which Adam took as an encouraging sign.

"I'm good. Well, a little tired actually. How about you?"

Belle laughed. "The same. I spent all day wishing I could curl up under my desk and take a nap."

"I know the feeling. Sorry again for keeping you out so late," Adam apologized.

"Don't be. I had a really good time."

"Me too," Adam admitted. "Listen, I have to get back to rehearsal before Lumiere and Cogsworth kill each other, but I was actually calling because I saw that they're showing 'La Belle et la Bête' in Rose Park tomorrow night. It made me think of you, and I thought you might want to go? With me?" he clarified.

"That sounds great," Belle agreed. "I've actually wanted to see that for a long time."

"Really? Awesome." Adam hoped his sigh of relief couldn't be heard over the phone.

"Definitely. What time is the movie?"

"6:30," Adam replied.

"Ok, well why don't we meet by the fountain at 6:15? I'll bring some sandwiches and something for us to sit on," Belle offered.

"Works for me."

"Great. Well, I'll let you get back to your rehearsal. See you tomorrow, Adam."

"Good night, Belle." Adam hung up his phone with a smile, suddenly feeling more awake than he had all day. As he stepped back into the rehearsal room, he just narrowly avoided colliding with Lumiere and Cogsworth, who continued to duel vigorously with Cogsworth's drum sticks. "Guys!" Adam exclaimed. Lumiere and Cogsworth abruptly dropped the drum sticks and looked at Adam sheepishly as the tools clattered to the floor. "Why don't we get to work," Adam suggested with a grin. "I've got a date to plan when I get out of here."


	6. To Be With You

CH. 6 - To Be With You

Belle had trouble concentrating at work on Friday. Every time she thought about her date with Adam that evening, she would get butterflies in her stomach. And since she could hardly _stop_ thinking about the date, the butterflies were starting to make her feel slightly queasy. So it was with great relief that she shut her computer down at 5 PM and rushed out of the office.

As she stood in front of her closet trying to decide what to wear, she silently chided herself for getting so worked up over a guy. It felt silly; _she_ felt silly. But truthfully, it had been a long time since she had looked so forward to a date. She was really drawn to Adam - he was interesting in a way that she hadn't expected. She would never have guessed that they would have anything in common, and yet at no point had they lacked for things to talk about. He seemed genuinely interested in her opinions and interests, whereas most other guys seemed to have trouble seeing beyond her pretty face. And although she had learned long ago that it was hardly enough of a reason to agree to a date, she couldn't deny that she found Adam attractive. She had caught herself staring into his eyes more than once as they had talked in the diner, when she hadn't even meant to be doing it. She hoped he hadn't noticed. Belle quickly shook herself and changed into a blue sundress. She stuffed a blanket into a tote bag and hurried out of her apartment.

After a quick stop to pick up sandwiches and drinks, Belle found herself standing next to the fountain in Rose Park. She was a few minutes early, so she leaned casually against the rim of the fountain and scanned the crowd. The warm early June night seemed to have lured a lot of people out to the park. Belle was debating whether she should try to find a spot on the lawn and tell Adam to meet her there when she finally spotted him in the crowd. His eyes met hers and his face broke into a warm smile as he made his way toward her. He was dressed in much the same way he had been on Wednesday night, and Belle suppressed a smile as she wondered whether his closet held anything other than jeans and black t shirts. She had less success, however, in suppressing the butterflies that had once again started fluttering madly in her stomach.

"Hey," Adam greeted her as he reached her side. He leaned forward slightly, then stopped himself awkwardly, as if he couldn't decide whether to hug her or shake her hand. He finally took Lumiere's advice and settled on a compliment: "You look really nice." Almost as an afterthought, he held out a handful of yellow tulips and added, "Oh, these are for you."

"Thank you," Belle blushed as she accepted the bouquet. "They're beautiful."

Adam smiled, clearly pleased that she liked the flowers. "So it looks like we're not the only ones who showed up for the movie, huh?" he asked, gesturing to the crowded lawn.

"No," Belle laughed. "But I think I saw a good spot near the front." She boldly grabbed Adam's hand and gave it a tug. "Follow me," she instructed as she led him toward the lawn.

She reluctantly dropped Adam's hand as they claimed their spot and spread the blanket over the small patch of grass. They spent a few minutes eating their dinner and quietly discussing how the rest of their weeks had been. The crumbs from their sandwiches attracted a small group of hungry birds to their blanket, and Belle stifled a giggle as she helped Adam shoo away one particularly audacious bird who had landed on his head, much to the delight of a pair of children sitting on the next blanket over.

When the movie started up a few minutes later, Belle stretched her arms behind her, resting her weight on the palms of her hands as she gazed up at the screen. As Adam leaned back, his fingers grazed Belle's hand, but he made no move to reposition himself. Belle moved her hand closer to his and smiled at him when he glanced over at her.

Although Belle had wanted to see "La Belle et la Bête" for a long time, she found that she had a hard time focusing on the film with Adam sitting beside her. Every time she'd sneak a glance at him, she'd miss the subtitles displayed on the screen. And given the generally rusty state of her French, she could only make out the odd few words by ear without really concentrating. Eventually, she conceded that she would have to rent the movie at a later time, when she was less ... distracted. When the movie ended almost an hour and a half later, and Adam suggested taking a walk through the park, Belle readily agreed. As they strolled hand-in-hand along the dirt path that circled the park, Adam spotted an ice cream truck parked along the path. "Are you up for dessert? My treat," he asked with a grin.

Belle nodded eagerly as they made their way to the truck to examine their choices. A few minutes later, Adam handed a strawberry ice cream cone to Belle before accepting his own chocolate cone from the teenager operating the truck. They settled themselves on a bench under some trees and out of the way of the people hurrying along the dirt path. Belle's breath caught in her throat as Adam casually draped his free arm around her shoulders, and she inched a little closer to him on the bench.

"So have you made it much further into the book yet?" he asked.

Belle didn't need to ask which book he meant. "I can barely put it down! I'm a little more than halfway through."

Adam almost dropped his cone. "But that book was _huge_! Either you're a really fast reader, or the book is really good!"

"Both," Belle laughed. "I do tend to read quickly - it helps with the job. But this is easily the best book in the series since the third one. There's a twist about a quarter of the way through that I think will end up being a real game changer, and it comes out of literally nowhere. And it indirectly involves one of my favorite characters, so -"

"Stop, stop!" Adam interrupted her excited rambling. "No spoilers! It's not fair that you get to read it before the rest of us!" Though his tone was panicked, Belle could see in his eyes that he was only teasing.

"I would never!" Belle insisted. "But you have to admit," she added slyly, "it is pretty crazy that Tyrion turned out to be Jon Snow's brother. I mean, who would've expected _that_?"

"Aw, you didn't!" Adam cried dramatically. "That's it, the book is ruined!"

Belle laughed. "Nah. Although if that _does_ turn out to be true, just remember that you heard it from me first. I think you're really going to like the book though. I can't wait to hear what you think."

Adam smiled. "You'll be the first person I call when I finish it."

They settled into a few minutes of comfortable silence as they finished their ice cream and watched a group of children playing in the grass with a large, fluffy dog. Adam's arm still rested around Belle's shoulders, but she decided that she was in no hurry for him to move it. She turned slightly toward him and smiled up at him. "You know, I'm really glad you called. This was fun. And it's nice to see that there are guys out there who don't think they have to follow that stupid three-day rule."

Adam shrugged. "I wanted to see you," he stated honestly. "And besides," he added with a grin, "I was afraid that if I waited too long, Gaston would wear you down."

Belle groaned and gave him a playful shove. Adam trapped her hand against his chest, and she was startled to feel that his heart was beating wildly, which in turn caused her own heart rate to quicken. She glanced down at their hands, and when she looked back up, Adam's face was only inches from hers. She held her breath as he leaned in and gently brushed her lips with his own. The kiss was short - Adam pulled back after only a moment, his eyes searching Belle's as if seeking to confirm that his gesture was welcomed.

Belle smiled and slid her hand up to Adam's jaw, pulling him down for a longer, more satisfying kiss. Surprise caused Adam to hesitate only for a second before eagerly returning Belle's affections. He pulled her closer, and her hands became entangled in his hair as she sought to do the same. Belle could still taste the chocolate ice cream on his tongue as he leaned into the kiss, and as his arms tightened around her, she was suddenly very glad to be sitting down.

They pulled apart abruptly at the sound of whistles and cheers from a group of passing teenagers. Adam laughed softly as he tried to catch his breath. "Sorry," he apologized. "It's just - I've been thinking about doing that for two days."

"So have I," Belle admitted with a smile. "I was starting to wonder what was taking you so long."

Adam looked startled. "Well I hope it was worth the wait," he teased. The blush spreading across Belle's face was all the answer he needed.

* * *

When Belle pulled Adam in for a long kiss in front of her apartment building an hour later, there were no nosy passersby around to ruin the moment. Their arms remained tightly wrapped around each other as they reluctantly broke apart. "Are you free this weekend?" Adam murmured.

"I'm visiting my father tomorrow, but I don't have any plans on Sunday," Belle replied.

"Do you want to come to my place? I'll make dinner for you," Adam offered. "And if you feel like sticking around, we can watch the _Game of Thrones_ finale together."

"You cook too?" Belle asked in amusement. Adam was starting to seem to good to be true.

"Well I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I'm mostly a sandwiches and ramen kind of guy," he admitted. "But there are a few things I can make well."

"Ok, it's a date" Belle agreed. "Can I bring anything?"

"Nope," Adam replied with a light kiss. "I'll text you tomorrow with my address. Have fun with your dad."

"I will. Good night." Belle gave Adam a dazzling smile before starting up the steps of her building. He watched her go with a dazed expression before turning away and walking briskly down the block. He had exactly two days to learn how to cook.


	7. Patience

Ch. 7 - Patience

Adam's apartment was in an old, ornate building in a surprisingly upscale part of town. The doorman admitted Belle into a lobby full of fancy looking antique furniture that she would have been terrified to touch, and on which she would never have dreamed of actually sitting. As she rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, Belle wondered at how Adam was able to afford such seemingly expensive accommodations on a student's budget.

She was relieved, then, to see that his particular apartment was furnished relatively modestly. He released her from a warm embrace and led her into the living room, which housed a black leather couch, a glass coffee table, and a big screen television; the sort of furnishings that seemed to come standard-issue in apartments inhabited by single young men. The kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a counter and a pair of stools, was clean and uncluttered; except for a small coffee machine, the counters were relatively bare.

However, there were touches throughout the apartment that indicated unmistakably that this was Adam's home. Except for a doorway leading to the bedroom, the wall opposite the kitchen was completely covered by a massive shelving unit. Belle guessed with envy that there must be hundreds of books and CDs lining the shelves. Against the adjacent wall, half a dozen guitars were artfully mounted between two large windows.

"So," Belle said, smiling brightly as she looked around, "what's cooking?"

"Well nothing yet, but how do you feel about Italian?" Adam responded.

Belle's stomach rumbled, and she gave him an embarrassed smile. "Does that answer your question?"

Adam laughed. "Don't worry. It doesn't actually take too long to make, so I didn't want to start on it until you got here. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Just water, thanks," Belle replied. Adam placed her glass of water on the counter before retrieving several packages from the refrigerator and spreading them out on the counter. "Can I help with anything?" Belle asked.

"No, but thanks. This won't take long. I've made this dozens of times; I could probably do it in my sleep." He didn't mention that this was because he'd spent all day Saturday practicing the recipe _literally_ dozens of times, a fact that had earned him much teasing from Lumiere and Cogsworth. Considering the amount of pasta he'd made them eat, however, enduring their good-natured jokes had seemed like a fair exchange.

Belle raised an eyebrow. "So you've made this for lots of girls then?" she asked. Adam reddened and tried to stutter an explanation. "Relax," Belle teased. "I'm only kidding."

Adam threw a dish cloth at her. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable and stop harassing me so that we can eat before the show starts?"

Belle laughed and tossed the dish cloth back at Adam, who caught it deftly with one hand. Glancing around the room, she decided that his suggestion to get comfortable was an invitation to peruse the bookshelf. As the smell of garlic and olive oil wafted through the apartment, she skimmed the shelves lining the wall. Adam wasn't kidding when he said he liked to read - apparently, he was almost as big a reader as she was. Although his collection was dominated by fantasy and sci-fi novels - some of which Belle had also read - she also saw several books about music, some graphic novels, and a few biographies. He also had an impressive collection of classics, some of which looked rather old. "Feel free to borrow any of those if you want," Adam called over to her as he stirred some chopped tomatoes into a saucepan. Belle's eyes lit up eagerly, and she wondered if Adam fully realized to what he had just agreed.

As Belle moved on to the shelves of CDs, she was surprised to find that Adam's taste in music was even more eclectic than his taste in books. Although his music collection was heavily biased toward hard rock and heavy metal, she also saw several artists that she had downloaded to her own iPod. "What's with all of the CDs?" she asked. "You do realize we've entered the twenty-first century, right? You could have fit all of these on an iPod and saved yourself a ton of wall space," she observed with a smile.

Adam rolled his eyes. "I notice you didn't ask the same question about the books. Somehow, I don't think I would find a Kindle and an empty bookshelf at your place."

"Well, no," Belle smiled. "I don't know - I guess there's just something comforting about having an actual book in your hands."

"I feel the same way," Adam agreed. "About my books _and_ my CDs. Plus, I like to read the liner notes and look at the album art. It adds to the listening experience, but you don't get all that when you download the music."

"And I suppose you can always resell a CD if you regret buying it later," Belle mused thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't resell any of those," Adam insisted confidently. A cloud of steam rose from the kitchen sink as he drained a pot of pasta.

"Really?" Belle asked skeptically. "Sooo ...," she trailed off as she scanned the titles, finally finding what she was looking for and sliding the jewel case from its place, "... no regrets about this Indigo Girls CD then?" She held up the disc triumphantly.

"The vocal harmonies are really good," Adam protested. When Belle merely looked at him, he grumbled. "I thought I told you not to harass me. I'm just about done here; I just need to add the sauce to this pasta."

"It smells delicious," Belle complimented as she wandered toward the wall of guitars. There were five electric guitars and one acoustic. The glossy finishes on the electrics gleamed warmly in the glow of the setting sun that was visible beyond the windows. Although Belle didn't know much about guitars, she couldn't help but admire the beautiful instruments. She was about to make her way back toward the books to decide what she wanted to borrow, when she noticed a small, battered looking case sitting on a shelf below the guitars. "What is this?" she asked Adam as she lifted the lid curiously.

"Don't touch that!" Adam shouted, bolting across the room, but it was too late. Belle had opened the case to reveal an old violin.

"Adam, you didn't tell me you played the violin," Belle said as she turned to smile at him. Her smile froze when she saw the look on his face. His blue eyes burned with - anger? Panic? Possibly a combination of the two? - and Belle instinctively backed away from him.

"I told you not to touch that!" Adam snapped, snatching the case from Belle and slamming it shut. He clutched the instrument to his chest protectively. "What the hell? Don't you listen? Do you realize what you could have done?"

Belle was stunned into silence by Adam's sudden outburst. It was like a switch had been flipped; they had been laughing and joking only moments earlier, but there was nothing funny about his current behavior. In fact, she might have been afraid of him if she hadn't been so dumfounded. She hurried after him as he stalked back to the kitchen. "Adam, I'm sorry," she said gently, although she wasn't entirely sure for what she was apologizing. "I didn't break it, did I?"

"Let's eat," Adam said stiffly, ignoring Belle's question as he shoved a bowl of pasta into her hands. Belle accepted the bowl and hesitantly took the seat next to him at the kitchen counter, where they ate in silence for several tense minutes. Although their dinner was delicious, Belle could barely taste it. Every few bites, she would sneak a glance at Adam. And though she was sure he could sense her looking at him, he refused to make eye contact or to speak to her. She wondered what he was thinking. Clearly, he was angry; Belle just couldn't understand _why_. What was the big deal about playing the violin? She considered the possibility that it might diminish his credibility as a metal guitarist, but she quickly dismissed the thought. After all, who would she tell?

"The pasta is really good," Belle offered feebly when she could stand the silent treatment no longer. Adam grunted in response but showed no other sign of acknowledging her, and Belle went back to picking miserably at her food. After another few minutes of awkward silence, she sighed and put down her fork. "Adam, do you want me to leave?" she asked softly.

"What? No!" Adam exclaimed, looking at her for the first time since they had sat down. He seemed genuinely surprised by her question. Composing his voice, he asked, "Why would you think that?"

Belle resisted the inappropriate urge to laugh. "Well, you're not exactly acting like you want me around right now," she pointed out. "It's ok if you want me to go. Really."

"Belle, please stay," Adam pleaded quietly. He had a feeling that if she left now - especially without an apology - he might never speak to her again. "I shouldn't have yelled at you; I overreacted. I'm really sorry."

Belle bit her lip. Although she was glad that Adam had calmed down and apologized, she still wasn't certain that she should stay. But she was curious as to why he had reacted the way he did, and ultimately her curiosity won out. "Ok. And - I'm sorry about poking through your stuff, by the way. It was rude of me. I don't know you well enough to do that."

Adam winced at her words. It had been easy to forget when they seemed to connect so effortlessly, but it was true. They really didn't know each other very well yet. He realized with a pang of longing that he _wanted_ them to know each other better than they did now. His uncle, Lumiere, and Cogsworth were the only people with whom he truly considered himself close. They understood him better than anyone else, and he knew them equally well. But even those friendships hadn't started out that way; they had evolved over time as mutual trust had developed. Adam suspected that if he had any hope of having the kind of relationship that he _wanted_ to have with Belle, then he was going to have to learn to trust her, even with the things he didn't particularly like to talk about. And that probably started with explaining why he had blown up at her. He owed her that, at least.

He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something unpleasant. "Just so you know, the violin isn't mine. I mean, it is mine, _now_. It used to belong to my father," he faltered.

Belle's hand flew to her mouth. Adam's reaction made a little more sense to her now. "Adam, I'm _so_ sorry. I had no idea ..."

"I know, I know. And that's why I shouldn't have yelled at you. Well, I shouldn't have yelled at you anyway. It's just - I don't ever take it out. And when I saw _you_ taking it out, I didn't think, I just ... overreacted," Adam repeated. "I'm really sorry."

"No, Adam, I'm sorry," Belle apologized, placing a hand gently on his arm. "You did catch me off guard, but I feel awful for worrying you." Adam nodded in relief and looked down. "So ... your dad played the violin?" Belle asked hesitantly, hoping to learn more about Adam's parents but afraid of pushing too hard for information on a topic that he was clearly uncomfortable discussing.

"Yeah, he was a concert violinist actually; he played professionally," Adam acknowledged.

"Wow, he must have been very talented. Was your mom a musician too?"

Adam laughed softly. "No, she could barely carry a tune," he said with a sad smile. "She was a politician. She was elected to the state senate when I was a baby."

Belle smiled. "Well I guess that solves the mystery of where you get your musical abilities from. Did your dad teach you to play?" she asked, gesturing to the violin which was now sitting on the end of the counter.

Adam shook his head. "He was always pushing me to learn, but it just seemed so uncool to me as a kid. I think when I took up the guitar, it was partly just because I wanted to push back." Adam smiled wryly. "I guess the joke was on me, because he was just glad I was learning to play _something_. I do kind of wish I'd let him teach me now, though. I keep telling myself I'm going to learn to play on his violin, but I'm honestly too afraid to even touch it."

Belle nodded in understanding. "I have a necklace that belonged to my mom. I loved it as a kid; I used to sit in front of her mirror and try it on all the time. Sometimes she'd even let me wear it out on special occasions. So when she passed away, my dad gave it to me. But I don't think I've ever worn it since. I'm too afraid that I'll break it, or lose it, and never be able to replace it. It's just been sitting in my jewelry box for six years gathering dust."

"What was your mom like?" Adam asked quietly.

"She was amazing," Belle said with a smile. "When I was little, I remember thinking she was the nicest, most beautiful woman in the world. She was a nurse - that's how she and my dad met, actually. He had a mishap in one of the labs, and she happened to be on duty in the campus infirmary when he was brought in. They had their first date that same night, as soon as her shift ended."

"Love at first sight, huh?" Adam mused.

"She always blamed it on his concussion, but yeah, I think so."

A look of understanding passed between them, and Belle decided that she had probably pressed Adam for enough information for one night. For Adam's part, the heavy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach when he had thought that Belle might leave had lightened considerably. It had actually been a bit of a relief to share some of these things with her. She gave him a small smile. "Here," she said, reaching for his empty bowl. "Why don't I get the dishes?"

A few minutes later, Belle had finished loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. As she dried her hands on the dish cloth, she noticed that Adam seemed a little quiet. She wasn't sure whether this was because he still felt badly about his outburst, or because the heaviness of their conversation had dampened his earlier, more lighthearted mood. She scanned the room as she searched for a way to break the tension. "Adam," she said thoughtfully as her gaze landed on the wall of guitars, "would you play something for me? Maybe one of those songs you were telling me about the other night?"

"Well, most of them are kind of hard to play by yourself," Adam said, surprised. "And the neighbors might not appreciate it. But I could play something else for you if you really want me to. What would you like to hear?"

"Surprise me," Belle requested as she settled onto the couch. Adam appeared lost in thought for a few moments before approaching the wall and lifting the acoustic guitar from its mount. He sat on the coffee table across from Belle and began to pluck the strings as he checked the tuning. When he was satisfied with the sound, he glanced up at Belle, who gave him an encouraging smile.

Adam began to gently strum the guitar, and a slow, pleasant melody vibrated from its strings. He joined his voice to the music, singing in a low, clear voice: "Shed a tear 'cause I'm missing you, I'm still all right to smile. Girl, I think about you every day now ..." Belle smiled as she recognized the song. Adam looked up at her, grinning, when he reached the chorus and she began to sing along with him.

"You have a pretty nice voice" Adam complimented when he finished the song.

Belle laughed. "Me? Adam, your voice is amazing! How come you never sing with your band?"

Adam smiled shyly, but he was clearly pleased by the praise. "Thanks. I've never really been comfortable singing in front of crowds though. The lead singer always gets the most attention, and I'm not half the showman that Lumiere is. I guess I'm just more comfortable playing my guitar and letting him work the crowd."

"I understand," Belle replied with a smile. "But honestly, playing the guitar for a crowd takes a lot of guts too. They pay attention to you too, you know. I did."

"Oh yeah?" Adam raised an eyebrow at her. "Belle DuPont, were you checking me out?"

Belle smirked. She could tell that Adam was finally starting to loosen up. "Maybe just a little," she admitted.

* * *

Later that night, Adam stood in front of his building with Belle as they waited for a cab to take Belle home. "Belle?" he said uncertainly as he glanced sideways at her. "Are we cool?"

"Hey," Belle said softly, placing a hand on Adam's cheek and looking directly into his eyes. "We're more than cool." To show him that she meant it, she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips gently to his. She felt his shoulders sag in relief as he returned the kiss. When the cab pulled up a few minutes later, she squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Will you call me tomorrow?" Adam nodded. "Good. Good night, Adam," she bid as she stepped into the cab. She waved through the window, twisting in her seat to watch Adam until the cab had rounded the corner and he disappeared from her sight. It was only then that she realized they had completely forgotten about the finale they'd planned to watch together. It was probably just as well, she thought; the evening hadn't really needed the added drama.

* * *

_**I'm not sure if I need to mention this, but just to err on the side of caution, the song Adam played is "Patience" by Guns N' Roses **__**(BTW, good call, Green Archer!)**_. I know the song choice is cheesy, but if you've read this far then that probably doesn't surprise you. ;)  



	8. Holiday

CH. 8 - Holiday

As Adam helped Lumiere unload an amplifier from the back of his truck before a gig a few weeks later, he mused that the misunderstanding at his apartment had actually been a turning point in his relationship with Belle, but not in the way he'd originally feared. The revelation that he and Belle understood each other far better than they realized had led them to develop an appreciation for each other that ran deeper than their initial attraction.

That appreciation grew over the next several weeks as they took long walks, listened to some of Adam's favorite songs, and read to each other from Belle's favorite poems and stories. Belle was pleasantly surprised to learn that she really liked Led Zeppelin_ - _even the songs that had nothing to do with _The Lord of the Rings_. And although Adam insisted that he tolerated Jane Austen only because he enjoyed the sound of Belle's voice when she read aloud to him, he discovered that she was much funnier than he expected - though he still hoped that no one caught him reading her books when he wasn't with Belle.

In between, they talked about their families, their childhoods, and their college experiences, surprising themselves as they found even more common ground. Belle was generally more forthcoming than he, but he made a conscious effort to try to open up to her. While it was still not something that came naturally to him, she made it easier by trying to respect his boundaries and not push too hard for information that he wasn't ready to share. Adam supposed that it was as much a struggle for her to reign in her innate curiosity as it was for him to overcome his normally guarded nature, and knowing that she was making that effort for him made him like her even more.

As a pair of stagehands approached to claim the amplifier, Adam paused to scan the MU quad for Belle. Enchantress had been invited, along with several other local bands, to perform at a yearly public celebration hosted on the school's campus. Adam and his bandmates had arrived at the university early in the day to meet with the organizers and finalize the last-minute preparations for the day's schedule. Belle planned to arrive later with Chip, but had promised that she would be there in time for their performance. The celebration had only just gotten officially under way, but the quad was already filling up with revelers, and Adam had trouble locating Belle or Chip in the growing crowd.

Lumiere smirked as he watched Adam anxiously search for his girlfriend, then tapped him on the shoulder. "She's over there - see?" He gestured toward the gate on the opposite side of the grassy expanse, where a lone figure in a yellow sundress sat reading beneath a tree. "Your lady awaits. Now help me get this drum kit out of the truck before Cogsworth has a fit."

* * *

Belle was oblivious to the two sets of eyes watching her from the stage. In fact, she was oblivious to almost everything around her - she was engrossed in a tale that she probably could have recited from memory. She eagerly pulled the book closer as the heroine and Prince Charming met for the first time. This had always been her favorite part of the story, even though Belle knew that the prince's identity wouldn't be revealed for a few more chapters.

"_Belle_!" a voice called out. "Earth to Belle!" She abruptly lowered the book to see Chip standing before her, laughing. "I've been trying to get your attention for the last thirty seconds. That book must be really good. I'm surprised you don't have ink on your nose."

"Sorry, Chip," Belle apologized sheepishly as she marked her page. She offered a smile as she took in her friend's slightly disheveled appearance. "Why do you look like you're out of breath?"

"I was helping my mom set up - she's selling cupcakes inside," Chip explained. "Want to meet her?"

"Oh, sure!" Belle exclaimed. "Lead the way!"

A flood of delicious scents overwhelmed Belle's senses as she followed Chip past the rows of concession stands that lined the perimeter of the quad. Many of the local restaurants were represented, and Belle saw that they were serving everything from corn bread to spring rolls to crepes to some sort of grey stuff that she couldn't begin to identify. Chip stopped at a table displaying a colorful array of cupcakes from one of the town's most popular bakeries. Behind the table bustled a heavy-set, kindly looking woman with Chip's sparkling blue eyes and a mop of grey curls.

"Belle," Chip announced, "this is my mom. Mom, this is Belle, my friend from work."

"Hello dear, how nice to meet you," Mrs. Potts said. She smiled warmly as she brushed her palms off on her apron and grasped Belle's hand. "I've heard a lot about you; you're every bit as pretty as Chip said." Belle shot a curious look at Chip, who had turned beet red at his mother's comment. Mrs. Potts, however, seemed not to have noticed the embarrassment she had just caused her son. "Do you like cupcakes?"

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Potts. And I _love_ cupcakes," Belle responded.

"Well then help yourself. I made them just for the celebration today," Mrs. Potts offered, gesturing to a tray of cupcakes frosted in bright colors.

"Thank you!" Belle replied, reviewing the tray carefully before selecting a cupcake with red frosting and white sprinkles. "They smell wonderful."

"Do you need any help here, Mom?" Chip asked.

"No, that's all right, dear. I think I'm all set for now. Why don't the two of you go enjoy yourselves? I'll call if I need your help." Mrs. Potts shooed them from the table, but not before Chip had grabbed a cupcake for himself.

Belle and Chip walked along the perimeter of the quad as they ate their cupcakes, enjoying the warm sunshine and perusing the various concession stands and carnival-style games that had been set up. "When is Adam's band going on?" Chip asked.

"I think they're actually the first band, so probably soon," Belle replied, curiously glancing up at the stage. Sure enough, a pair of teenagers who Belle didn't recognize were helping Adam, Lumiere, and Cogsworth set up their equipment. An unconscious smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she watched her boyfriend roll an amplifier across the stage.

"So it looks like it's happily ever after for you guys, huh?"

Belle's attention snapped back to Chip. "What was that?"

"You and Adam," Chip clarified. "Things seem to be pretty serious with you guys?"

"I guess they are," Belle admitted as her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink.

"Aw, you really like him, don't you?" Chip laughed as he elbowed Belle gently in the side. "In that case, I guess I can forgive you for ruining my interview."

"Huh?" Belle gasped. "Chip, I didn't mean to -"

"Whoa, whoa!" Chip held up his hands. "I was just kidding. Well, mostly kidding. It _was_ a little hard getting anything out of Adam when he was so obviously ... preoccupied. But the other guys warned me that he probably wouldn't be very chatty anyway. I never _did_ ask how you got him talking?"

Belle had to stop and think about this for a moment. "Actually, I think he's the one who got _me_ talking," she replied.

"Really?" Chip asked incredulously.

"Yeah, he asked me about a book that I was reading."

"Oh boy, he had no idea what he was getting himself into," Chip laughed. "I'm surprised you let him get a word in."

Belle smiled. "No, I guess he didn't. But really, I'm sorry if I hijacked your interview."

Chip waved her off. "The interview was great; it actually led to some pretty cool new assignments for me too. And I'm glad you two hit it off. Just don't forget who talked you into going to that show when you send out the wedding invitations," he teased, causing Belle's blush to deepen to a vibrant shade of red that nearly matched the frosting of the cupcake she had just polished off.

"Maybe we should go find some spots by the stage," Belle suggested, eager to steer the conversation in a less embarrassing direction.

"Good idea," Chip agreed. As he turned to discard his cupcake wrapper, he froze. "Uh oh, don't look now," he mumbled, inclining his head toward the nearest building. Belle followed his gaze and spotted Gaston with his lips plastered against a blonde woman's. She might have been one of the triplets who had been with him in the diner a few weeks earlier. Now that Belle thought about it, Gaston hadn't pestered her for a date since that night - maybe this was why. She felt a mix of gratitude and pity for the blonde, but her pity quickly ebbed as it became obvious that the woman was a _very_ willing participant in the display being witnessed. As if seeming to sense that he was being watched, Gaston's eyes opened and locked on Belle's and Chip's surprised gazes. He gave them a cocky wink as his hands wandered into territory that was entirely inappropriate for the festival's family atmosphere.

The look of disgust on Chip's face was one that Belle was sure her own face mirrored. "Ewww ...," they said simultaneously.

"Let's get out of here before those cupcakes come back up," Chip groaned, grabbing Belle's arm and guiding her toward the stage and the already growing crowd. Belle nodded in agreement and quickened her step. As they got closer to the stage, the crowd seemed to buzz with excitement. Everyone was eager for the day's entertainment to start, and Belle and Chip moved as closely as they could to the front of the stage. Enchantress looked like they had finished setting up and tuning their instruments. Adam glanced toward the crowd, and, seeing Belle and Chip, gave them a friendly wave. Belle and Chip both smiled and waved back.

Enchantress's set got underway only minutes later. Although the set was relatively short due to the large number of performers on the day's schedule, the crowd responded enthusiastically. Belle tapped her foot and proudly took photos of the performance as Chip bounced up and down at her side. When the set wrapped with a raucous cover of Ozzy Osbourne's "Crazy Train," the audience sang along loudly, and even Belle chimed in at the parts she knew.

The crowd scattered a bit as the stagehands began moving instruments and setting up for the next performers. Belle and Chip remained on the lawn, reviewing the photos that Belle had just taken on her camera. They were laughing over a silly photo of Chip dancing when Belle suddenly felt the weight of an arm being dropped onto her shoulders. She looked up to see the owner of the arm, and was pleased to see Adam smiling at her. "There you are!" he exclaimed, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Thanks for coming," he murmured more quietly, giving her shoulder a light squeeze.

As Adam pulled back, Belle saw that Lumiere and Cogsworth were right behind him. She blushed knowing that their friends had just witnessed Adam's chaste demonstration of affection, and Lumiere gave her a friendly wink as if to acknowledge her embarrassment. "Are those photos from our set?" he asked, peeking over Belle's shoulder. She nodded and passed the camera to him. "We looked _good_," Lumiere announced proudly as he scrolled through the images. Suddenly, he choked back a laugh. "Well, mostly good."

Cogsworth and Adam quickly crowded around him, elbowing each other out of the way as they tried to catch a glimpse of the photo that had provoked such amusement. Adam winced when his eyes landed on the image; his normally handsome face was screwed up into an unflattering comical expression - is that really what he looked like when he was playing? And _what_ was going on with his hair? He reached a hand up to his head self-consciously.

Lumiere quickly tried to do some damage control. "You look so ... so ...," he trailed off, unable to find any comforting words that would not be an obvious lie.

"Stupid," Adam finished flatly.

"Not quite the word I was looking for," Lumiere assured him. "Perhaps we should just delete this one?" He looked at Belle, and promptly deleted the photo when she nodded her assent. Adam breathed a sigh of relief as Belle reclaimed the camera and dropped it into her purse.

"Now," Lumiere continued, "who wants to split a funnel cake?" His question was met with a murmur of general agreement, and the group decided to venture toward the concession area. Adam grabbed Belle's hand, and the two of them followed quietly behind Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Chip, who were animatedly dissecting Enchantress's performance. After a thorough perusal of the concession stands, the group settled in the shade of a large tree to feast on an assortment of snacks and drinks while escaping the mid-afternoon heat. Although Belle felt a little shy around Lumiere and Cogsworth at first, it wasn't long before the five of them were chatting and joking like old friends.

Belle had attended a handful of Enchantress's local performances since meeting Adam, but the band was so busy during these performances that she really hadn't had much opportunity to get to know Adam's bandmates. Most of what she knew about them were things that Adam had told her, such as the facts that Lumiere worked as a disk jockey at a local radio station and Cogsworth was an aide to the town's mayor. However, as the group relaxed under their tree, she began to understand why Adam held his friends in such high regard.

Lumiere was every bit as warm and charming as he seemed on stage; the charisma was definitely not an act. But while Belle might have normally found such gregariousness to be slightly off-putting, he seemed to have a natural gift for putting the people around him at ease. Belle couldn't help but admire the effortlessness with which he managed to engage everyone around him in conversation. No one was forgotten or made to feel like a spectator. She found herself liking him immediately and couldn't help but giggle at his many blatant but harmless attempts to flirt with her.

Although Cogsworth was wound a little more tightly than Lumiere, he did seem to loosen up under the influence of his more outgoing friend. Belle had initially pegged him as the straight man of the duo, but she found that even he had an esoteric (ok, corny) sense of humor that she actually enjoyed. More than once, she caught herself chuckling at one of his jokes while the rest of the group regarded them with blank looks. Cogsworth, meanwhile, seemed pleased to have found in Belle a rapt audience for his under-appreciated inside stories of local political drama.

By the end of the afternoon, it felt as if the group had known each other for far longer than a few hours. Belle marveled at how well everyone seemed to be getting along. Although she never would have described herself as a loner, she had always had trouble feeling as if she truly fit in with her peers. Perhaps that's why it had been so easy for her to move to Molyneaux after graduation; it hadn't really felt as if she were leaving anything behind. And yet, for a while, it hadn't necessarily felt as if she were moving _toward_ anything either. Although she enjoyed her job and was happy to be closer to her father, Chip was the only close friend she had made, and that had been in large part because Chip had made it his mission to draw her out of her shell. But in the span of just a few weeks, her circle had grown to include Adam - and now through him, Lumiere and Cogsworth. Belle had never been a big believer in fate, but she couldn't deny the truth in Chip's earlier teasing remarks: her life was better now than it had been before he had talked her into going to that concert.

The sky was just beginning to darken when the last performers, a local cover band, took the stage. By this point, the quad had reached almost maximum capacity as people streamed in in anticipation of the fireworks display that would occur after sundown. The band fed into the energy of the crowd as they launched into a spirited set of popular classic rock, pop, and Motown hits. Many in the audience sang along with the band, and even more danced happily in a corner of the lawn.

As the last song was announced, Adam recognized the opening notes of Led Zeppelin's "Thank You" drifting over the speakers. Remembering how much Belle had liked the song the first time he played it for her, Adam quickly got to his feet. "Want to dance?" he asked, holding his hand out to her.

"I'm not much of a dancer," Belle confessed, but she accepted Adam's hand anyway.

"Neither am I," he shrugged. "But I'm sure we can figure it out. How hard can it be?"

"Ok." Belle smiled, allowing him to lead her toward the crowd. As they joined the other people dancing on the lawn, Belle draped her arms around Adam's neck, and he rested both hands on her waist, pulling her in close. As they swayed together to the music, Belle gently rested her head against Adam's chest and sighed contently. Her mind drifted as she tried to relax and simply enjoy the moment, which is probably how she ended up stepping on his feet several times. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind, or if he did, he didn't complain. He playfully spun her and then pulled her back in slowly as the song ended.

"I hope I didn't crush your toes," Belle offered, looking up at him with an apologetic smile. "I told you I'm a bad dancer."

"They'll be fine. But if you'd like to help speed up their recovery, I could offer a few suggestions," Adam grinned.

"I am _not_ going to give you a foot rub in the middle of the lawn," Belle insisted. "I'd never hear the end of it from Lumiere."

"I was thinking more along the lines of this," Adam responded as he leaned down and pulled her into a kiss. Their lips had just barely touched when a sudden, earth-shattering boom caused them to jump apart in surprise. The sky above them exploded with color; the fireworks had started. They laughed shakily as they looked at each other, and then they hurried back to their waiting friends. Their little group cheered along with the crowd as the fireworks lit the sky in a succession of colorful bursts. When the last of the fireworks faded into the sky, Chip left to help his mother pack up, and the rest of the friends joined the crowd making its way toward the exit. They bid each other good night at the gate, with Lumiere and Cogsworth heading in one direction and Adam and Belle heading in the opposite direction toward Belle's apartment.

Belle's steps unconsciously slowed as they turned onto her block. Adam seemed to notice and squeezed her hand as he slowed his own pace to match hers. But no matter how they lingered, her building loomed closer with every step, and she gave a small sigh of disappointment when they inevitably drew even with the entrance. She looked up and caught Adam smiling fondly at her. "Today was nice."

"It was," Belle agreed, as Adam started to lean in for a kiss. "Do you want to stay?" she blurted, before he could close the distance.

Adam straightened and raised an eyebrow. "That depends. Are you going to give me that foot rub now?"

Belle rolled her eyes at his teasing grin. "No, but just for that, you can have the couch all to yourself."

"Oh boy. Lumiere warned me about this," Adam sighed.

"He warned you about what?"

"First you cripple me, then you make me sleep on the couch. The 'honeymoon period' is over, isn't it?"

Belle smirked. "That depends. You're not going to turn into that guy in the photo in the morning, are you?" Adam sulked, but he allowed her to lead him into the building anyway. Maybe if he was nice, she'd change her mind about the foot rub. He would never admit it to her, but his feet really _were_ killing him.


	9. Don't Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)

CH. 9 - Don't Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)

As the fog of sleep began to dissipate, Belle dimly registered the fact that the street below her window was a lot noisier than it normally was when she woke up. She yawned and tried to stretched her stiffened limbs, only to be greeted by a muffled sound of protest that she was certain did not come from her. Opening her eyes, she found herself looking directly into Adam's face. If his slackened features and even breathing were any indication, he was still sleeping quite soundly. Moving more tentatively this time, she lifted her head to check the clock on the nightstand, just barely visible over Adam's shoulder. It was a little after 10:00 AM, which for her was incredibly late. Belle had never been the type to sleep in, even on weekends; lying in bed had simply seemed like the least interesting thing she could be doing with her time. However, she began to think that she might have to revise that opinion as she sank back onto the pillows and shifted closer to her boyfriend.

For a few minutes, she was content to simply lie quietly, lulled by the warmth of Adam's arms and the peaceful sound of his breathing. _Thank goodness he doesn't snore_, she thought. Eventually, though, she began to grow restless as Adam slumbered on with no sign that he was even close to waking. Did he always sleep this late? She glanced up at him enviously. Going back to sleep wasn't an option for her; once she was awake, she was awake for good. A nagging voice in her head insisted that she should find something useful to do with her morning, or what was left of it anyway. But another part of her was reluctant to leave Adam's cozy, if somewhat tight, embrace. She wavered between these choices until the perfect compromise suddenly occurred to her. She was pretty sure that she had left a book that she was reading for work on her nightstand. Once more, she lifted her head and peeked over Adam's shoulder: yes, it was still there. If she could reach it, she could read in bed until Adam woke up. She'd be productive _and_ comfortable.

Slowly, so as not to wake Adam, Belle began to extricate herself from his arms. This took a bit longer than she had expected, since he had a surprisingly good grip on her for someone sleeping so deeply. After a minute or two, she was confident that she had freed herself enough reach the nightstand. She checked quickly to confirm that Adam was still asleep; he was. Satisfied that she hadn't disturbed him, she leaned carefully over his body and stretched her arm slowly toward the book, trying not to rest too much of her weight on him. Unfortunately, Adam was not as deeply asleep as he appeared to be. "Belle?" he mumbled drowsily, just as her fingers had closed around the book. She startled and lost her grip on the book, which bounced off of Adam's head and landed loudly on the floor.

"I'm so sorry!" Belle whispered loudly. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to get my book. You can go back to sleep."

"No, it's ok," Adam replied, blinking his eyes open and squinting into the morning light that flooded Belle's bedroom. "I was already awake, mostly. Besides, I can think of worse ways to wake up." His eyes were still unfocused, and his long hair was hopelessly tangled, but as he grinned sleepily up at her, Belle felt her heart give a little lurch. "So what are you reading that's got you up so early?" he asked as he rubbed his head gingerly.

"Early?" Belle blinked at him. "It's after ten o'clock!"

"Hey, some of us need a little extra beauty sleep in the morning," Adam responded with a shrug. "But that's obviously not a problem for _you_," he added. He smiled affectionately as Belle's lips twitched and the corners of her eyes crinkled, cracking the stern facade she'd been struggling to maintain. He gently pulled her head down so that her lips met his in a long, leisurely kiss that seemed to silently suggest that they had all the time in the world. She melted against him, suddenly unable to recall why she had been in such a hurry to be anywhere else. In fact, as Adam's mouth continued to move against hers and his arms tightened around her, she was sure that whatever it was she had been thinking about doing could wait. But someone else, apparently, could not wait. A loud buzzing sound abruptly rang through the apartment, signaling that someone downstairs was ringing Belle's doorbell. "Oh, come on!" Adam groaned as she pulled away from him. "Don't they know it's Sunday?"

Belle's initial reaction was one of equal annoyance, until a possibility occurred to her. "It could be Papa. He's the only person I can think of who'd be ringing my bell this early on a weekend. I'd better see what's going on," she said, a note of concern creeping into her voice as she climbed out of the bed and hastily threw a robe over her sleeping clothes. She laughed as a look of panic crossed Adam's face at the mention of her father. Although they hadn't done ... _much_ the night before, she appreciated that these were probably less than ideal circumstances for _that_ introduction. "Don't worry. Just stay in here and try to be quiet," she advised as she cinched the robe tightly about her waist.

The buzzer rang a second time. "I'm coming, I'm coming," Belle muttered as she hurried into the living room. She pushed the button that would let the impatient visitor into her building. As she waited, she glanced around her apartment. She spied Adam's t shirt dangling, inside out, over the arm of the couch, and her cardigan had been carelessly discarded on the floor nearby. Quickly, she shoved both behind a large throw pillow. She then collected their shoes and tossed them blindly into the hall closet. Before she could check further for any other incriminating evidence, there was a loud knock on the door. She stood on her toes to peer through the peep-hole in the door, and when she saw who was on the other side, she had to blink to make sure she wasn't seeing things. What was Gaston doing here? She considered pretending not to be home, but then Gaston knocked a second time, more insistently.

"Belle, open up! I know you're home because you buzzed me in! We have to talk!"

Belle sighed in defeat when she realized that Gaston wasn't going anywhere without talking to her. She opened the door. "Gaston, what a pleasant surprise," she greeted him, the tone in her voice indicating that the surprise was anything but a pleasant one. Gaston, however, seemed oblivious to his imposition.

"Isn't it though? I'm just full of surprises," he boasted as he pushed his way into the apartment. His eyes raked over Belle appreciatively as he took in the fact that she was still in her robe.

"Yes," Belle said slowly, self-consciously drawing the robe more tightly around her. "Starting with the fact that you know where I live." She raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a pointed gaze that wordlessly demanded an explanation.

"Your address is in the employee directory," Gaston answered nonchalantly.

"Ok, but that doesn't explain what you're doing here on a Sunday morning," Belle retorted.

"I had to talk to you Belle," Gaston said urgently. "I wanted to explain about the girl you saw me with yesterday."

Belle thought hard, trying to remember when she had seen Gaston the day before. She grimaced as the effort brought back images she had been desperately trying to forget. "You mean the one at the school?" she asked hesitantly, fighting to keep the revulsion out of her voice.

"Suzi," Gaston nodded, taking a step toward Belle. "Listen, Belle, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about what you saw. We were just having fun, but she means nothing to me. I know it must have been very upsetting to you, and I was hoping you'd let me take you to breakfast to make it up to you," he finished, flashing her a smile that Belle supposed was meant to be charming.

"Gaston, that's really not necessary," she replied, taking a step back. "It's none of my business who you date."

"I'm happy to make it your business," Gaston suggested, now openly leering at her. Belle flushed, more in annoyance than embarrassment. "Come on, Belle," he pleaded. "The 'hard to get' thing was cute at first, but don't you think it's getting a little old now? How long are you planning to keep this up?"

"I _told_ you Gaston," Belle replied firmly. "I don't date coworkers."

"That doesn't stop you from running around town with that scrawny little intern," Gaston responded accusingly.

"Who, _Chip_?" Belle sputtered incredulously. "He and I are just friends!"

"Then he wouldn't mind if you let me take you out," Gaston argued.

"He might not, but I would," came a voice from across the room. A scowl crossed Gaston's face, and Belle whirled to see Adam leaning against the doorway of the bedroom, glaring across the apartment at the man who had ruined their morning. Although she felt a brief surge of relief at the reminder that she was not alone in the apartment, her heart quickly sank as she realized what kinds of conclusions Gaston would draw from Adam's presence at this particular moment. Right or wrong, she didn't think those assumptions would make him any more pleasant to deal with.

Adam's appearance had rendered Gaston momentarily speechless, though his left eye twitched violently in a way that might have been funny under different circumstances. Finally, he seemed to recover his voice. "Well, I guess I'm not the only one who's full of surprises," he sneered.

Adam crossed the room until he and Gaston were only inches apart. Adam wasn't a small man, but he certainly looked like one standing toe-to-toe with Gaston. The two were almost the same height, but Gaston had to outweigh Adam by at least thirty pounds, most of which was undoubtedly muscle. This fact didn't seem to bother Adam, who looked like he wanted very much to hit the larger man, and Belle silently begged him not to do anything stupid. The last thing she wanted was to spend her afternoon in the emergency room - or the police station. "I think we've had enough surprises for one morning," Adam growled. "Get out of here, Gaston. And leave my girlfriend alone. That's not a request." Adam opened the door, never breaking eye contact with Gaston.

Gaston's jaw clenched. "You know, I finally figured out why you look so familiar. You're that loser from high school, aren't you? The one who used to mope around with the guitar in detention," he said mockingly. He turned to Belle with a look of disgust. "When you've figured out that you can do better, you know where to find me." With that, Gaston marched into the hallway, slamming the door behind him.

Belle let out a breath that she didn't realize she'd been holding and looked at Adam, who merely rolled his eyes. "No one kills the mood like Gaston. What a creep."

"He is," Belle agreed. "But I could have handled him, you know. You didn't need to get involved in this."

Adam frowned. "_I_ know," he said defensively. "I just figured it would be better if he thought _I_ was the bad guy. You have to work with him; I don't." His brow furrowed in concern. "You don't think this will cause any problems for you at work, do you?"

Belle sank onto the couch and rubbed her temples as she thought about his question. "No, I don't think so. No more than usual, anyway. I mean, everyone at work thinks he can do no wrong; he'd never do anything to call attention to the fact that something _isn't_ going his way." She sighed. "I'm more bothered by the fact that he obviously knows where I live."

Adam took a seat next to her on the couch and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Well, he doesn't know where _I_ live. You could always spend more time at my place. I'm offering for purely unselfish reasons, of course."

Belle smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks. Maybe I will, if you're sure you don't mind. At least until things with Gaston have blown over. I don't think he'll actually try to _do_ anything, I just don't want to deal with him any more than is absolutely necessary. And - thank you for your help just now. I didn't mean to seem ungrateful; I just don't want you to feel like you have to fight my fights for me. But you probably got rid of him a lot more quickly than I would have been able to."

"That's because I'm a lot less polite than you are," Adam grinned. "And your fights are my fights - _but_ I'll try not to interfere unless you ask me to," he added when he saw Belle start to protest. "Just ... let me know if things start to get out of control, ok? I don't trust that guy."

"Ok," Belle agreed. She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you." They sat together in silence for a few moments, and then Belle looked up at Adam with a mischievous smile. "You know, Gaston did have _one_ good idea."

Adam snorted. "Really? What was that?"

"Now that you're finally out of bed, how do you feel about getting breakfast?"


	10. Coming Home

CH. 10 - Coming Home

Beyond the windows of the light rail, the downtown area of Molyneaux gradually gave way to the more suburban-looking part of the town. Multi-story buildings and infinite stretches of concrete were overtaken by sprawling green lawns and cute little houses. Children chased each other on bicycles and dogs darted happily through sprinklers, tracking muddy pawprints up and down the sidewalks. Belle couldn't help but feel a little twinge of excitement as she watched the scenery roll past; after all, it _was_ her birthday. If she were honest, though, her excitement had less to do with that and more to do with the fact that she was finally going to introduce Adam to her father, who had invited them both to his home for a celebratory dinner.

She tore her gaze from the window to check on Adam, who was sitting next to her and staring resolutely at the empty seat in front of them. He had barely uttered a word for most of the trip, but his features were tensed in an expression that spoke volumes about his nervousness at the prospect of meeting Mr. DuPont. He knew that he would be the object of intense scrutiny for most of the evening, and he wanted badly to make a good impression on Belle's father. It was clear that Belle thought the world of her father and valued his opinions, so it was important to get on the man's good side from the start.

Belle placed a hand lightly on his knee, and he jumped. "We're the next stop," she reminded him softly.

Adam gulped. "I know," he nodded.

"You know," Belle said with a sympathetic smile, "my dad's really not that bad. You'll see; all of his students love him. And I know the two of you will get along fine," she added as she kissed Adam's cheek.

Adam smiled back weakly. As the train slowed to a stop, he got to his feet, reaching down to offer a hand to Belle. She accepted his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. They continued to hold hands as Belle led Adam out into the warm July evening and down the street to her father's home. Maurice DuPont lived in a small but quaint little house in the middle of a tree-lined block. The garage door was open, allowing anyone who walked past a glimpse into Mr. DuPont's workshop. True to Belle's word, the space was filled with spare parts of every kind, as well as a handful of unidentifiable devices that appeared to be in various stages of assembly, or disassembly as the case may have been.

Suddenly, a small pop rang out, and a thick cloud of smoke drifted up from a contraption sitting on a lift just above the garage floor. Adam jumped in surprise, but Belle merely laughed and rolled her eyes. To Adam's further surprise, a pair of legs that he hadn't even noticed sticking out from underneath the lift started to wiggle, followed by a stout body. Through the cloud of smoke, Adam glimpsed a pair of absurdly magnified eyes and heard an unfamiliar voice grumbling about a "hunk of junk."

Belle stepped forward as she attempted to wave the smoke away. "Papa?" she called.

Maurice DuPont pushed a pair of safety goggles up onto his head as he staggered to his feet. "Belle!" the older man exclaimed happily. "You made it! Happy birthday, dear!"

"Thanks, Papa!" Belle answered as she bent to embrace her father. Adam noticed with amusement that Belle stood at least a head taller than Maurice. Mr. DuPont was a short, plump man who appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties. His round face was framed by a fringe of white hair that thinned at the crown, and his upper lip sported a bushy white mustache that gave him a friendly, almost grandfatherly appearance. Adam had never met a man who intimidated him more.

"Papa," Belle announced, leading Mr. DuPont to the entrance to the garage, where Adam stood awkwardly, "this is Adam. Adam, this is Papa."

"Nice to meet you Pa - uh, Mr. DuPont. Professor DuPont!" Adam corrected, offering a hand to Belle's father.

Belle's father chuckled. "Call me Maurice, son," he responded jovially as he took Adam's hand, pulling him in close to give Adam a pat on the shoulder. He frowned as he pulled back, eying Adam curiously. "You know, you seem very familiar to me. I didn't have you in any of my classes, did I?"

Belle noticed that Adam had suddenly gone pale. "N-no sir," he stuttered. "I was a music major."

"Yes," Maurice agreed, still frowning slightly as he tried to place Adam. "Belle told me. She's gone on and on about you!" he chuckled. Belle's cheeks flushed as Adam raised an eyebrow at her. Maurice caught the look that passed between them and laughed again. "Oh dear, should I not have mentioned that? Well in any event, it's nice to meet you. Though I just can't shake the feeling that we've met before. Ah, well, maybe I've just seen you around campus." He shrugged, then clapped his hands together. "What do you say we quit standing around and go start up the grill? I'll meet you out back just as soon as I wash up. There are drinks in the fridge - help yourself."

As Maurice went to clean up, Adam followed Belle into the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Adam fidget quietly as she poured some iced teas. She knew that he had been nervous to meet her father, but she didn't think that that was exactly what had him so agitated all of the sudden.

Belle led Adam out to the patio, looked around to make sure that her father was still in the house, and then turned to her boyfriend. "Ok," she said slowly. "What was _that_ all about?" When Adam widened his eyes innocently at her, she crossed her arms and fixed him with a stare that told him he'd better start talking.

Adam sighed in defeat. "Ok, ok. Belle, your dad was right - I have met him."

"You _have_?" Belle exclaimed in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"_Because_," Adam started, gesturing frantically for her to keep her voice down, "I didn't know who he was when I met him - I didn't even know _you_ at the time! I just knew that he was a professor. I didn't put two and two together until just now." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Belle frowned. She supposed it wasn't _that_ surprising that Adam and her father might have crossed paths on campus at some point. However, that only partly explained Adam's weird behavior. "Adam, did something bad happen when you met him?"

"Imighthavelockedhiminalab," Adam mumbled.

"Huh?" Belle shook her head. "I didn't get that."

Adam drew in a deep breath and looked at her desperately, "Belle, I locked your dad in a lab. _By accident_," he added quickly.

"You _did_? How on earth did that happen?"

Adam winced. "I was doing a favor for Lumiere. He'd gotten some guy at school to make a set of custom picks for him, and I offered to stop by the machine shop to pick them up. It was kind of late. This professor - your dad, apparently - was the only person working in the shop, but he let me in so I could wait for Lumiere's guy. I waited for almost an hour, and the guy never showed. I was so pissed off by the time I finally gave up and left, I guess I just ... slammed the door to the shop behind me without even thinking. How was I supposed to know it locked automatically?" He shrugged helplessly and gave Belle a pleading look.

"Ok," said Belle, frowning, "but couldn't Papa have just unlocked it from the inside?"

Adam shook his head. "That's the thing. From the outside, you can unlock it with a key fob. But from the inside, after a certain time of day, you can only unlock it with an actual key. And your dad didn't know where the shop tech kept the key. That's why he'd been keeping the door propped open. And I didn't even know this - I would have just walked off and left your dad stuck in there."

"So how did he get out?"

"The guy I was supposed to meet showed up just as I was leaving. He'd stopped to help another professor change a flat tire, so now I felt like an even _bigger_ jerk for getting annoyed at him. Anyway, he had the picks in a locker in the shop, and when we tried to get back in, we realized we were locked out - and that your dad was locked _in_. We searched the whole building trying to find someone with a key fob that could unlock the door. I finally found a grad student who was able to get in, but your dad was stuck in there for probably forty-five minutes at least."

Belle couldn't help it. She started laughing. And when Adam gave her a pathetic look, she only laughed harder. "Oh Adam," she sighed, wiping tears from her cheeks, "you don't honestly think my dad would hold that against you, do you? I wouldn't be surprised if he's locked _himself_ in there once or twice. And at least you got him out."

"Maybe, but his first impression of me is probably isn't that great," Adam groaned. "At worst, he thinks I'm a jerk; at best, I'm an idiot."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Then you'll just have to convince him that his first impression was wrong. Providing he even remembers that he _has_ a first impression of you." She gave him an encouraging peck, which seemed to improve his mood. A slow smile crept over his face.

"I guess it couldn't hurt that you go on and on about me, could it?" he teased as he placed an arm around Belle's shoulders. As he started to lean in closer, Maurice came bustling through the back door with two trays full of hamburgers and vegetables. Adam abruptly dropped his arm and attempted to put as much distance between himself and Belle as possible. Fortunately, her father seemed not to notice that anything was amiss as Adam sipped his drink, adopting what he hoped was an innocent expression.

"So Adam," Maurice began as he arranged the food on the grill, "Belle tells me you play guitar?"

"Yes, sir - Maurice," Adam caught himself. "I play in a band, and I also teach lessons at my uncle's music shop downtown."

"You must have been playing for a long time then?"

"My uncle started teaching me when I was seven, so about fourteen years," Adam confirmed.

"You know, I used to play too," Maurice confided. "I was never great at it, but I like to noodle around from time to time. I've even tried to build a few instruments myself. In fact, I've been tinkering with an old guitar in my workshop - I'm trying to scallop the fretboard by hand. I haven't quite got the sound I want from it though - perhaps you'd humor me after dinner and take a look at it? I just can't figure out what I'm doing wrong, and I'd be curious to see if you have any suggestions."

For a moment, Adam was too surprised to respond. Belle's dad was asking for his advice? When he caught Belle nodding at him encouragingly, he found his voice. "Sure, I'd be happy to take a look at it. It sounds like an interesting project. I've got a few guitars with partially scalloped fretboards, but I bought them that way. I've never tried to do it myself."

Maurice beamed at him. "Excellent. Now, on to more important questions: how do you like your burgers cooked?"

By the time the trio sat down to eat, Adam had visibly relaxed around Maurice. In fact, to Belle's delight, the two men continued to chat animatedly throughout dinner, trading advice on the physics of building string instruments. They almost seemed to forget that she was there, but she didn't mind; she was just glad to see them getting along so well. After everyone had finished eating, Belle offered to clean up so that Maurice and Adam could examine the guitar in the workshop.

When she came back into the house, she was startled to find Adam giving her father a guitar lesson in the living room. "See, there's nothing wrong with the way you've scalloped the frets. You were just pressing down too hard on the strings; you need a light touch, or you'll pull the strings out of tune," Adam was saying patiently. "There, that's much better," he offered as Maurice proudly strummed a few chords.

"Well how about that?" Maurice said with a smile as he looked up at Belle. "Your boyfriend is quite the teacher. He's got a lot of patience for a guy who goes around slamming doors," he remarked casually. Adam, who had just taken a sip of his iced tea, nearly choked on his drink. Maurice gave the younger man a few quick slaps on the back. "Easy son, I'm just giving you a hard time," he said, smiling sympathetically but seeming to enjoy the deep shade of red that spread across his daughter's boyfriend's face.

* * *

After sharing some birthday cake with Maurice, Belle returned with Adam to his apartment. At Adam's suggestion, she had been spending more time there after the confrontation with Gaston. Adam had even cleared some space in his closet, dresser, and bookshelf for Belle to keep some of her things. As Belle lounged quietly on the couch with a magazine, Adam dropped down next to her and handed her a small, brightly wrapped package. "Happy birthday," he said simply, kissing her on the cheek. "Go ahead, open it."

Belle smiled; she could tell right away that the gift was a book. She tore away the paper to reveal a very old looking but well maintained copy of _Le Petit Prince_. "It's a first edition," Adam explained. "It belonged to my mom. I saw that you had a copy at your place, but it looked pretty beat up."

Belle gasped. "Oh Adam, I can't - "

"_Please_, Belle," he interrupted. "I _want _you to have it." He held up a hand when Belle looked like she was going to protest further. "It's ok. I trust you with it. And I think my mom would be happy to know that I gave it to you."

"Adam, are you sure?" Belle asked, still in disbelief. "This must be, well, priceless!"

"Positive," he replied. "I'm sorry that it's in French, but hopefully that's not too big a deal. You seemed like you were able to follow that movie we saw in the park well enough."

Belle smiled at the reminder of their first date. But she wasn't about to admit that she had been so distracted by him that she hadn't been able to follow _anything_ that night. Besides, she was much better at reading French than she was at listening to it, and she had always preferred the original version of this story to any of the translations.

"This is wonderful," she enthused, leaning over to kiss his cheek. She thumbed through the book excitedly, admiring the colorful illustrations. Adam watched her with a satisfied smile, pleased that the gift had made her so happy. He had been agonizing over what to get her and had rejected numerous suggestions from Lumiere and Cogsworth that mostly involved flowers, chocolates, and promises that he didn't think they intended for him to keep. He wanted the first birthday gift he gave to her to be more meaningful than that, and when he had spied the well worn book at Belle's apartment, inspiration had struck.

"I think I'll keep this here at your place, just to be safe. Is that ok?" Belle asked.

"If it gives you another excuse to spend time here, it's ok with me," Adam replied with a grin. "Will you read some of it to me?"

"Ok," Belle agreed eagerly. "Do _you_ understand French though?"

"I understand enough to get the gist. Besides, I like to listen to your voice," Adam answered as he stretched out on the couch, resting his head in Belle's lap. She ran one hand through his hair while the other propped the book on Adam's chest. He turned the first page for her.

"_Lorsque j'avais six ans _...," Belle began. Adam listened contently as she read on, though later he couldn't remember, and Belle didn't notice, when he eventually dozed off. However, when Belle reached the part where the little prince tamed the fox, she looked down to see that Adam was fast asleep. She smiled softly to herself and read on in silence as the clock ticked down the last few minutes of her birthday.


	11. Estranged

CH. 11 - Estranged

It was almost 7:00 PM on Wednesday night, and aside from the cleaning crew, Belle was the only person left in her corner of the office. The fall semester would be starting in a week, and Adam had a meeting with his adviser late that afternoon, so she had decided to work late and catch up on a few emails. She had just called her favorite Thai restaurant to order dinner for herself and Adam; she would pick up the food on her way to Adam's place. She stretched as she stood up, loosening the limbs that had been crammed into her chair for far too long that day.

She had just shut down her computer when a voice made her jump. "Good evening, Belle." She whirled around to see Gaston standing behind her, his approach having been muffled by the distant roar of a vacuum cleaner.

"Gaston!" she exclaimed, lifting a hand to her racing heart. "You startled me. I thought I was the only one left on this floor."

Gaston grinned at her. "I was stuck in a meeting that just got out. You didn't hear it from me, but the paper is considering offering your friend a full-time job."

"You mean Chip?" Belle asked excitedly. "That's wonderful!"

"Well it isn't a done deal just yet," Gaston cautioned. "The hiring committee still needs to vote on whether or not to offer the job to him, and the vote needs to be anonymous."

"Anonymous?" Belle asked uncertainly.

"You know," Gaston waved a hand impatiently. "Everyone needs to agree."

"Oh, '_unanimous_,'" Belle corrected him.

"I ... what?" Gaston frowned in confusion.

"Never mind," Belle sighed. "So when will the hiring committee vote?"

"Friday."

"How do you know all this?" Belle asked curiously.

"Because I'm on the hiring committee," Gaston stated smugly. Belle's heart sank at the smirk on his face. Suddenly, she had a bad feeling about the direction in which this conversation was headed. And it didn't take long for Gaston to prove her right. He sighed dramatically. "You know, this is going to be a tough decision for me. He seems like a nice enough kid, but I don't really know anything about him. I mean sure, they give you a resume and a writing sample, but who has the time to read all of that?" He waved a hand dismissively. Belle considered mentioning that reading all of that was part of his job, but she knew the point would be lost.

"What I really need is someone who knows him and can bring me up to speed. Wait a second - _you're_ friends with him, aren't you, Belle?" he asked as if the thought had suddenly occurred to him. When Belle nodded weakly, he beamed at her. "Well that's it, then! Why don't we have dinner tomorrow night, and you can tell me everything I need to know for Friday's meeting? I'm sure that you can convince me he's right for the job."

"I don't think I can," Belle offered uncomfortably. "Adam's band has a show tomorrow night, and I promised him that I would go. But why don't you talk to our editor? She can probably tell you everything you want to know."

She didn't miss the look of annoyance that flickered briefly over Gaston's face at the mention of Adam. "That's a shame. I was really hoping _you_ could help me out. I just figured since you Chuck are such good friends, you'd want to make sure he got the job. I'm sure _Adam_ would understand." He shrugged. "My offer stands if you change your mind. Goodnight, Belle."

Belle frowned as Gaston walked off. She quietly fumed at his nerve. But then an uncomfortable feeling started to settle in the pit of her stomach. The paper wanted to offer Chip a job. And she knew he was counting on an offer. But without a unanimous vote from the hiring committee - which apparently included Gaston - he wouldn't get the offer. Suddenly, she found herself second guessing her decision to blow Gaston off so quickly. Maybe she needed a second opinion on the matter.

* * *

"And what did he say when you told him 'no?'" Adam asked as he rolled his eyes and poked suspiciously at a piece of broccoli with his chopsticks. Belle had just filled him in on her conversation with Gaston, and he was clearly bothered by the fact that Gaston had approached her after their confrontation several weeks ago.

"Well ... I didn't actually give him an answer. Not yet," Belle admitted uneasily.

Adam gaped at her. "You're not actually considering it, are you?"

"I don't _want_ to do it," Belle rushed to assure him. "But if I don't, Chip won't get the job, and that's not fair to him. He deserves it. I don't know what to do," she moaned miserably.

"Belle, are you crazy?" Adam asked angrily.

Now it was Belle's turn to gape; she had expected Adam to be on her side. What was with his attitude? "I'm not crazy, Adam," she answered irritably. "I'm just trying to help my friend. I can suffer through one lousy dinner with Gaston if it means Chip will get the job."

"You think it's just going to be _one_ dinner? He's _manipulating_ you, Belle! Don't you see that? You think he won't keep doing this once he sees that it worked this time?" Adam shook his head in disbelief.

"Well, what do _you_ suggest I do?" Belle retorted, now feeling her own anger bubble to the surface. "I don't want to cost Chip a job!"

"Talk to your editor! Tell her what Gaston is doing!" Adam shouted in frustration.

"Tell her _what_, exactly? All he technically did was invite me to dinner to discuss Chip's candidacy for the job!"

Adam rolled his eyes. "Come on, Belle, you know there's more to it than that."

"You know that, and I know that, but there's nothing that he said or did that on its face would suggest he did anything inappropriate. It's not like he came straight out and said he'd vote against giving Chip the job if I don't have dinner with him!"

"It was obviously implied!"

"Well great, I'll just tell my editor that it was _implied_," Belle said sarcastically. She pushed her stool away from the counter and glared at Adam. "I didn't ask to be put in this position, but I just don't see any other way. Do you honestly believe that I _want_ to have dinner with him?"

"No. But I also _believed_ that you were too smart to fall for his lame tricks," Adam growled. "And apparently I was wrong about that."

Belle inhaled sharply, and Adam's eyes went wide as he immediately realized that he had said the wrong thing. Belle felt her eyes begin to sting. She had hoped that by talking things through with Adam, he'd be able to see a solution that she didn't. Hadn't he said she could ask for his help if things with Gaston got out of her control - hadn't he _encouraged_ it? But instead of coming up with a plan, they had ended up arguing and angry with each other. She quickly hopped off of her stool and grabbed her purse before the tears could start. She refused to let Adam see _that_. "Where are you going?" Adam asked as she reached for the doorknob.

"I think I should sleep at my place tonight," she answered in a clipped voice, not bothering to look back. "Goodnight, Adam."

* * *

Although Belle did in fact spend the night at her apartment, she was far too restless to actually sleep. Her mind raced as she analyzed and re-analyzed every option, her heart ached over how she had left things with Adam, and her stomach lurched uneasily as she tried and failed - repeatedly - to come up with a satisfactory solution to her problem. She even tried to lull herself to sleep by reading, but found that she couldn't concentrate on the words on the pages.

She felt trapped by Gaston's offer. In effect, he had made her the only obstacle to Chip getting a job at the Times. He should have been a shoo-in; he was a hard worker, a talented writer, and everyone at the paper loved him. It was hard to imagine that anyone on the hiring committee would be opposed to hiring him. However, one negative vote from Gaston would rob him of the unanimous support that he needed to be offered the job. He was also one of Belle's closest friends, and she worried that it would be disloyal of her to not do everything that she could to help him. Wouldn't he do the same for her if placed in a similar situation?

But as she mulled things over, she began to realize that Adam had a point. Gaston had been trying to wear her down for months, and he had finally found her weak point: she would do anything for the people she cared about. Or at least that's what he was counting on. And once she proved him right, he would continue to use her friends and family to get to her. His impositions would grow bolder, and worse, the people she cared about most would be dragged into them. She groaned as she stared up at the ceiling, replaying the fight with Adam in her head. She had been caught so off guard by his anger that she had failed to see the sense in what he was saying. And now she'd allowed Gaston to drive a wedge between them; she wondered if that hadn't been part of his intent all along. How had someone who mattered so little to her managed to disrupt her relationships with the people who mattered to her the most?

As the first rays of sunlight started to stream in through her bedroom windows and she finally dragged herself out of bed, she decided that she would tell Gaston what he could do with his vote. She'd find another way to help Chip; she just wasn't sure how yet.


End file.
